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kelltonic · 18 days ago

Text

Defences ★彡

Mickey ‘Fanboy’ Garcia x Reader

Description: While at the hard deck with the other daggers, Mickey - your boyfriend - get’s heavily flirted on by a stranger when you’re not around, and he is never more committed to shut someone down.

Warnings: Alcohol/Drunkenness, very light sexual harassment (fem on man). Canon-typical asshole Hangman. I love Reuben. Fanboy is a sweetheart. Other than that it’s just an established relationship and fluff. No use of y/n.

WC: 1,500

A/N: Guys if you want more Mickey (or any top gun) PLEASE request - I have been struggling for ideas lol - even if it’s just another version of an already made fanfiction with a different character, or a headcanons prompt!! - ALSO for anyone who read my prev a/n on my other fanboy ff, I GOT 100% ON MY ENGLISH EXAM!!! I actually started tweaking out (it was creative writing). We don't talk about my other exams though.

“Oh come on!” Mickey groaned while throwing his arms in the air, physically complaining over the miss he just hit in pool. “The tables gotta be uneven or something.” He said, mostly jokingly.

"Don't be bitter that I'm just better." Reuben shrugged, flashing a cocky smile to tease his best friend with.

After a long day of flying, most of the squadron retired to the most familiar place on base, the Hard Deck. A comforting yet bustling bar that welcomed naval aviators with open arms.

"Now that's funny-" Fanboy was about to start, but was quickly cut off by that oh so familiar southern drawl.

"Boys, boys, let me show you how a real man shoots." Hangman mocked, condescendingly snatching the pool cue out of Fanboy's hands while simultaneously shooting a wink to one of the many attractive women scattered around the bar. Payback's face formed a frustrated expression as he leaned back to watch what Hangman would do. Hangman did this more than anyone would like. Preferably, he'd never interrupt the games for some silly flirting exercise, but something about Jake couldn't live without the thrill of the tease.

Fanboy was about the opposite, despite what his callsign may allude. Sure, before he met you, he would throw around a few pick up lines and enjoy the spotlight whenever a pretty girl noticed him. But now? He is duller than a rock if someone tries to get a piece of him. You're his favourite person in the entire world, and he makes sure you know it - as long as you promise not to tell Reuben. He can't have another passive-aggressive flight because Reuben decided to teach him how significant of a role he plays in Mickey's life. He would rather jump out of his plane mid flight than let you think you meant anything less to him.

So when the girl Hangman had been flirting with had finally approached him with her friends who had been giggling like hyenas at the squadron the entire night, he just went to get another round.

He looked back from the bar to see the girls clinging to various daggers while waiting for the drinks, chuckling at the sight of Reuben getting surrounded. He didn't think anything of it until one of them separated and began approaching him.

But he didn't want to assume anything, she may just be coming to do the same thing as him.

"Hey handsome." She giggled, leaning against the bar next to Fanboy. Welp, there goes the lack of assumption.

"Hi." He responded bluntly, giving a brief polite yet not hinting smile. All that warranted was a giggly and flirtatious response.

"Come here often?" She said, clearly a little tipsy if not anything further. She scooted closer to him, practically brushing him. As much as he wanted to make space between him, the bar was particularly crowded and he honestly didn't want to bother the aviator directly behind him.

"Yeah a bit, most of us frequent this bar the most." He said with a dry sigh, averting eye contact. He couldn't help but wish Penny sped up with the drinks, but he would never in any lifetime say that to her and face her (and Maverick's) wrath.

"Come on pretty boy, loosen up." She giggled while gripping his arm, trying to push their bodies flush together.

"Okay no thank you." He quickly spoke, lightly pushing her away. He was uncomfortable, and couldn't help but feel guilty despite the fact he had done nothing wrong. "I have a girlfriend." He stated, easily plying her hand off his arm.

"Is she here?" She said while staring into his eyes playfully, unbothered by the physical signs he was presenting.

"No?" He said, puzzled by her persistence.

"Then she doesn't have to know." She responded while trying to close the distance again.

"Here ya go." Penny interrupted with a small smile, placing a tray of various alcoholic beverages in front of them before dashing off to another patron. all Mickey could think was 'oh thank goodness' as Penny saved him from this uncomfortable and awkward encounter.

He grabbed the drink tray and flashed the girl a small, awkward smile as he sped walk to the full group again.

"Ayy!!" Reuben and various others bellowed, grateful to see another wave of drinks. "Our saviour." He joked, taking a beer.

"On land and sky." Mickey responded, placing the tray down while grabbing himself a beer. It only took a few awkward shuffles from Mickey for Reuben to detect something was off, despite his current state.

"You good?" He asked with a smile, tilting his head as he carefully watched Mickey's reaction.

"Yeah, yeah, I just feel... dirty." Mickey murmured, the guilt of another woman's attraction to him weighing on him like an elephant.

"Dirty? Or like.. dirty." Reuben repeated, shifting from a playful to serious tone.

"Dirty." Mickey echoed, reaching for his phone in his back pocket. "...One of the girls was flirting with me. Hard." He elaborated.

"Since when was that a bad thing?" Reuben scoffed, before a wave of realisation hit him. "Ohhh... right, okay." A neutral tone flowing through his voice. It only took a second for a puzzled expression to take over his face. Mickey had to admit one thing, Reuben was one of the most expressive people he's ever met.

"So... why do you feel bad?" He mocked, a slight laugh leaving his mouth. "You didn't flirt back.. right?" Reuben questioned. He knew how utterly enamoured Mickey was with you, he had to get his callsign from somewhere. But he couldn't help but seek clarification.

"No!" Mickey swiftly reacted after taking a gulp of his beer, a frankly offended expression covering his face.

"...." Reuben just stared, a little dumbfounded at Mickey's loyalty policies. Despite a hint of respect also developing, he couldn't help but laugh at Mickey's commitment to you. And his standards for what counts as something he should feel guilty for or not. However, Reuben was also observant. Even if he wasn't, it would still be easy to tell how sad the thought of someone else flirting with Mickey made him. Someone other than you. But his trance was interrupted by an exaggerated sigh.

"Okay, look. I'm only ever going to say this once, so listen up." Reuben began, placing his beer down as he forced eye contact with Mickey. Landing a hand on his shoulder, he groaned as he realised what he was about to say and the possibility of Mickey never letting him live it down. "You're attractive. Really damn hot, man. Both physically and personality wise. You have good energy and people are naturally drawn to your confidence and kindness. So you're gonna have to get used to the idea of people, women included, approaching you and flirting." Reuben stated, more teaching than hyping.

Mickey was conflicted between smiling and teasing Reuben. "Come on man, that's the nicest thing you've said to me." He said with a chuckle as his shoulders dropped and his gave Reuben a quick hug before he potentially got bitch slapped by him.

"Okay off." Reuben scolded, pushing Mickey off of him with a forced groan.

"...I'm still gonna call her though." Mickey quickly ushered while typing in your contact on his phone, which just elicited a 'why do I even try' motion from Reuben as he walked away.

Your phone rang a couple times before you got the chance to pick it up, busy with an email.

"Hello?" you spoke seriously, forgetting to check the caller ID.

"Babe!!" Mickey spoke, excited to hear your voice. He always sounded ecstatic whenever you two spoke.

"Hey baby, what's up?" You spoke warmly, a complete shift from your initial greeting.

"I just wanted to tell you I love you more than anything in the entire world. Even flying." Mickey spoke quickly, not for a lack of authenticity.

"I love you too... why are you calling to tell me this?" You said with a small chuckle, it wasn't uncommon for Mickey to randomly declare his love, especially over the phone due to distance. It was however rare for him to do it at this late hour.

"Some girl was flirting with me. BUT! I didn't at all entertain it for a second." Mickey emphasised, he was only slightly tipsy but the honesty made you giggle. You would never in a million years have to worry about his loyalty, and this is one of the reasons.

"Well I appreciate that." You responded softly, the yearning for his presence briefly satiated by his voice. All you could hear on the other end of the line was a low giggle, as far as you could tell he could very well be twirling his (non-existent) hair and kicking his feet.

"I miss you sweetie." You whispered with a gentle desire from the heart.

"I do too, but you'll never guess what Reuben said to me." Mickey said with a chuckle, you could practically hear his smile, and his longing.

A/N: Bit of a corny ending but I didn't know what else to do lmao.

Started: 12:00am Sunday 22nd of June Ended: 8:00pm Thursday 26th of June

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jungkoode · 20 days ago

Text

FIVE SECONDS TO FREEDOM | 02

˗ˏˋ broken cars and police chases ˎˊ˗

"Sometimes the most dangerous thing isn't the race itself—it's who you trust to have your back when everything goes sideways."

next | index

⋆｡°✩ chapter details ✩°｡⋆

word count: 5,5k

rating: mature

content: police chases, engine diagnostics, unexpected alliances, & the dangerous intimacy of small spaces

jimin's skyline r34 | y/n's toyota ae86

�� author's note ✧

Well. Hi again. (ಠ_ಠ)

Welp. Here we are. Chapter 2?!?? Already??? I see you little freaks going feral for Latino!Jimin and I can only say: relatable. Honestly. You’re not wrong and you shouldn’t be ashamed. You are exactly as God (me) intended. Now sit back and enjoy the consequences of your lust because this chapter is rich in feral Jaque behavior.

NOW. As for my obligatory prefacing ramble that none of you asked for but must endure because I am mentally ill and this is my sandbox: I really, really loved writing this chapter. Early chapters carry so much weight in a story’s rhythm—they’re the place where you need to anchor, to plant seeds, to seduce the reader into forgetting they have jobs and responsibilities and instead need to sit here with me and spiral over my little fictional rats. And this chapter let me really dig into the interpersonal dynamics that are going to unfold like slow-burning emotional grenades later on.

Let’s talk Maya for a second—my angel, my demon, my unhinged menace in matte black nail polish. I’m so obsessed with female friendships and I will never forgive media for flattening them into either aesthetic sidekicks or exposition machines. Maya is real. Maya is sharp. Maya has her own shit going on that affects how she shows up for Y/N. She’s not a foil—she’s a force. And Y/N having someone like her, someone who gets it and doesn’t coddle but also doesn’t leave? UGH. Peak feminine solidarity. She gives me Yeji and Irya (FMU coded) energy in the way that her presence changes the emotional architecture of a scene just by existing in it.

And Maya and Taeyang?? HA. You thought that was banter? You thought that was throwaway dialogue? BE SERIOUS. I am planting a garden and you better water it, because that seed is going to grow into something chaotic and gorgeous and definitely juicy.

Speaking of juicy: Taeyang and Jaque’s friendship is so dear to me. Like. I’m sorry. That entire “bro I’d die for you but never say I love you or make eye contact for longer than 2 seconds” dynamic is sooo real and sooo important and sooo boy. I needed that energy in here. It’s just so honest. And yeah, Taeyang has a backstory. And yes, he speaks Spanish too. And yes, there are layers to how and why. (‘Tiz’? Tiz is not just a sound. Save that. Save it. Bookmark that bitch.)

Also random but crucial: everyone calls Taeyang “Yang” and not “Tae” because my mentally ill fanbrain kept jumping to Taehyung every time I typed it and I simply refused to confuse my sons like that. Thank you for understanding.

And okay—Y/N checking the RX-7? Y/N getting her hands dirty? That scene is everything. It’s not just for the car girlies (though I see you and I love you). It’s about proving narrative integrity. Your main character needs flaws. Needs competence. Needs internalized biases, too. The world doesn’t split itself neatly between heroes and villains, misogynists and feminists. It’s messy. Characters are flawed. They don’t have all the information. They say the wrong thing. They’re not mirrors—they’re human. Jimin is just arrogant and doesn’t yet have the context to understand who he’s talking to. And that’s what makes it compelling. He fumbles. And the point is not that he never messes up—it’s that he learns. And Y/N gets to have her reactions and process and growth through it, too. We love a dual-arc pipeline. That’s what gives us growth and payoff and tension down the line. Plot wise. Character wise. Relationship wise.

AND THEN JIMIN???? IN THE AE86???? That man is literally the bane of my sanity. He’s cocky. He’s relaxed. He has one arm up on the roof like he owns your apartment, your body, and your last two brain cells. I hate him so bad I want to sit on his face. He’s all smirks and muscle memory and unreadable glances. The worst kind of guy. And I mean that in the way that makes my toes curl.

And the best part? Y/N and Jaque aren’t even talking to each other. They’re talking to their own assumptions. Two people playing poker with half the deck missing, trying to parse subtext that neither has context for. They’re both so certain they have the upper hand, and they’re both so wrong. I love them so much. I want them to suffer and also kiss about it.

Okay okay I’ll shut up. Go read the chapter. Report back. Tell me what you noticed. Tell me what you felt. Tell me if you would also fold like wet paper if Jimin stretched out in your passenger seat.

Love you always,

Kiki ♡

⋆｡°✩ read on✩°｡⋆

ao3

wattpad

The sound that comes from Taeyang's RX-7 isn't right.

You catch it immediately—that telltale whine of a rotary engine pushed beyond its limits, the kind of noise that makes every experienced driver in a fifty-foot radius wince.

Taeyang's black Mazda limps into Daikoku like a wounded animal, steam wisping from under the hood, the distinctive growl of the 13B rotary replaced by an unhealthy rattle that has nothing to do with the aftermarket exhaust.

Maya whistles low beside you. "That doesn't sound good."

Understatement of the century.

You watch Taeyang kill the engine and sit there for a moment, hands still gripping the steering wheel. Even from this distance, you can read the frustration in the set of his shoulders, the way his head drops forward against the headrest.

He gets out slowly, like he's afraid sudden movements might make something else break.

The hood release pops with a sharp metallic click that echoes across the lot, and when he lifts it, a cloud of white steam billows out.

"Fuck." The word carries clearly across the parking lot. "Fuck, fuck, fuck."

That's when you notice the other car—a lime green Honda S2000 that's still running, its driver standing beside it with his hands raised in what looks like apology.

Young kid, maybe twenty, with the kind of nervous energy that screams 'new money, bad decisions.'

You start walking before you consciously decide to move.

The scene becomes clearer as you approach—the S2000's front bumper has scrape marks. Fresh ones. Taeyang's examining something on the passenger side of his car—probably where contact was made.

"—didn't mean for it to get that heated, man. I was just trying to—"

"Shut up." Taeyang's voice is flat. Dangerous. "Just… shut the fuck up for a second."

The kid's mouth snaps closed.

Maya appears at your shoulder, silent backup, while a small crowd starts to gather.

Word travels fast when someone's car gets damaged in a race.

Everyone wants to see how it plays out, who's going to pay, whether fists are going to fly.

You catch a glimpse of Maya's face as she assesses the damage to Taeyang's car. She has a weird expression, far more personal than her usual detached amusement around these type of situations. Like she's taking this shit seriously for once.

You whip your head back to assess the situation—back to your more analytical side; the one you bring to every corner, every gear change, every decision that matters.

The S2000 kid is nervous but not running, which means he's either decent enough to face consequences or too stupid to realize how much trouble he's in.

In this city, this young, it's probably a mix of both.

The damage to Taeyang's car looks superficial from the outside—some scraped paint, maybe a dented quarter panel—but the engine noise suggests the real problem is internal.

Which means expensive.

Really fucking expensive.

"What happened?" Your voice cuts through.

The S2000 kid turns toward you, and his expression shifts the moment he recognizes who's asking.

Everyone in Daikoku knows you. Everyone knows your reputation.

And right now, you're not here as a racer—you're here as the person who decides how these situations get resolved.

"We were just—" he starts.

"I wasn't asking you." You don't even look at him, your attention fixed on Taeyang, who's still staring at his engine like it personally betrayed him. "Taeyang."

He runs a hand through his hair, leaving streaks of grease from whatever he just touched under the hood.

"Kid wanted to run here at Daikoku. Nothing fancy, just a quick pull to the back section." He's forcefully modulating his tone, but you can hear the anger simmering underneath. "Started clean enough. Then this fucking amateur decides he wants to get creative with the bump draft."

Your jaw tightens.

Bump drafting at Daikoku is dangerous enough with experienced drivers. With some kid who probably learned racing from video games? It's a recipe for disaster.

"Caught my bumper on the overtake," Taeyang continues. "Sent me into the barrier. Engine red-lined trying to keep control."

Which explains the sound. Rotary engines are temperamental bastards on their best days. Push one past its limits—especially when it's already running hot from racing—and expensive things start breaking.

You turn to the S2000 kid, who's been standing there looking progressively more uncomfortable as the story unfolds.

"Name."

"Uh… Hiroaki. Hiroaki Matsuda." He fidgets with his car keys. "Look, I already said I was sorry. I'll pay for the paint job, no problem."

Maya snorts. "Paint job."

"This isn't about paint," you say, voice flat. "How much cash you carrying?"

"I… what?"

"Cash. In your wallet. Right now. How much."

He fumbles for his wallet, hands shaking slightly as he counts bills.

"Maybe… forty thousand yen?"

You glance at Taeyang, who's now leaning against his car with his arms crossed. The expression on his face suggests forty thousand yen wouldn't cover a tenth of what this repair is going to cost.

"Forty thousand yen," you repeat. "For an engine rebuild on a built rotary. Do you have any idea what you just did?"

The kid's face goes pale. "Engine rebuild?"

"Apex seals," Taeyang says, voice clipped. "Side seals. Probably the whole fucking rotor housing at this point. You red-lined a bridge-ported 13B, genius."

The silence that follows is educational.

You can actually see the moment the kid realizes he's not dealing with a simple fender bender.

"I… I don't have that kind of money."

"Then we have a problem." You step closer, and he actually gulps down, audibly. "Because that car isn't just Taeyang's ride. It's his livelihood. You just cost him weeks of work. Weeks of races he can't run. Money he can't make."

The crowd has grown larger now, forming a loose circle around the drama. These kinds of disputes are part of Daikoku's entertainment, but they also serve a purpose.

Because everyone gets to see how conflicts get resolved, who pays up, who tries to run.

Reputations are built and destroyed in moments like this.

"Look," the kid says, desperation creeping into his voice. "I can get more money. Give me a week, maybe two—"

"No." The word comes out sharp enough to cut glass. "You pay what you owe, tonight, or you don't race at Daikoku again. Ever."

It's not an empty threat. Being blacklisted by you means being blacklisted from Daikoku. The most prestigious lot in Tokyo.

The kid knows it. You can see him running calculations in his head, probably wondering if he can liquidate something fast enough to cover the debt.

"My car," he says abruptly. "It's worth maybe two hundred thousand. Not enough for a full rebuild, but…"

"But it's a start." You nod toward the S2000. "Title's clean?"

"Yeah. No loans, no liens. It's mine."

You look at Taeyang.

"Your call."

He considers for a long moment, gaze moving between the kid and the lime green Honda.

It's a decent car—well-maintained, some nice modifications. Not enough to cover a complete rotary rebuild, but probably enough to get him mobile again while he sources the rest.

"Fuck it," he says finally. "Yeah. Transfer the title. I'll part it out to cover what I can."

Relief washes over the kid's face.

It's expensive as hell, but it beats being completely blacklisted from the scene he clearly wants to be part of.

"Maya," you say without looking away from the kid. "Make sure the paperwork's legit. No bullshit."

She nods, already moving toward the S2000 to check the registration and title—because Maya's dealt with enough car transfers to spot forged documents from across a parking lot.

The crowd starts to disperse now that the drama's winding down.

Entertainment's over, justice has been served, and there are other races to prep for.

You notice Maya leaning against Taeyang's broken RX-7 then, watching him poke around the engine bay with obvious frustration.

"So," she says, voice carrying that edge she gets when she's about to start shit. "This is what happens when you try to show off for someone."

Taeyang's head snaps up. "I wasn't showing off."

"Right." Maya's grin is sharp. "Just coincidence that you accepted a race from some amateur right after that girl with the pink Civic was asking about your car."

"That has nothing to—"

"Sure it doesn't." She picks at her black nail polish. "Because you're so level-headed when it comes to female attention."

"At least I don't start fights in club bathrooms," Taeyang shoots back.

"That was one time—"

"Last month."

"She had it coming."

Their bickering is interrupted by footsteps on gravel.

You don't need to turn around to know who it is—that particular stride has been getting under your skin for months.

"La puta madre, cabrón." Jaque's voice is a whistle as he approaches Taeyang's car. "What the fuck happened to your baby?"

"Yeah, la puta madre indeed," Taeyang responds grimly. "Some amateur with more money than sense happened."

Jaque reaches the RX-7 and immediately starts examining the engine bay with the focused attention of someone who actually knows what he's looking at.

Most posers in this scene can talk a good game about turbo specs and suspension setups, but few of them have actually held a wrench outside of basic maintenance.

Jaque, unfortunately, isn't a poser.

"Dude," he says, voice dropping to something more serious. "This is fucked. Rico needs to see this."

"Rico's busy prepping your car for tomorrow," Taeyang says immediately. "I'm not fucking with that."

"Hermano, Rico's been working on both our cars for three years. He's not gonna mind taking a look."

"He's got your tune to finish," Taeyang insists. "Tomorrow's race is too important. I can figure something else out."

"Like what?" Jaque's voice carries genuine frustration. "Take it to some random shop that's gonna charge you double and probably fuck it up worse?"

Maya snorts from her position against the car. "Boys and their loyalty issues."

Both men ignore her, but you catch the way Taeyang's jaw ticks at her comment.

"I'm serious, Yang," Jaque continues. "Rico can handle both. He's got my car for the night. Had him pick it up earlier for some final checks but the tune on my car is basically done anyway—just final adjustments tomorrow morning."

"And if something goes wrong with your setup? If the tune needs major changes?" Taeyang shakes his head. "You're racing for what, half a million yen tomorrow? I'm not risking that over my car."

Half a million yen.

That's serious money, even by underground racing standards. The kind of stakes that attract either the very confident or the very desperate.

Judging what you know about Jaque, it's probably the first one.

"Look at the scoring on the housing," Jaque says, pointing to something deep in the engine bay. "This isn't just apex seals, bro. This could be a full tear-down."

The genuine concern in his voice surprises you.

Not that he cares about his friend's car—that's obvious—but the way he's examining the damage suggests he might actually have some mechanical knowledge beyond basic maintenance.

"I know how bad it is," Taeyang says quietly. "I also know I can't afford to fix it properly."

The admission hangs in the air.

Financial reality is a bitch in this scene—a lot of people live paycheck to paycheck, dumping every spare yen into their cars to try and make a profit through the races.

You don't know what that feels like.

But you respect it enough to voice something out.

"I'll take a look at it."

Both men turn to stare at you like you just announced plans to sprout wings and fly away.

Jaque recovers first, that familiar smirk spreading across his face.

"Since when are you a mechanic, princesa?"

The condescension in his tone makes your hackles rise.

Just because you don't walk around covered in grease stains doesn't mean you don't know your way around an engine bay.

"Since I was sixteen and could outbuild half the idiots in this scene," you say, voice flat and unimpressed.

"Right." He drawls the word out, skepticism dripping from every syllable. "And I'm sure your manicure is really gonna help with rotary seals."

You look down at your hands—nails painted matte black, perfectly shaped but not impractical—then back up at his face.

"My manicure costs more than your car payment," you say sweetly. "But I can still rebuild a 13B faster than you can say 'thirteen bee.'"

Maya snorts beside you. "She's not wrong. Girl's been elbow-deep in engines since middle school."

"Is that right?" Jaque's eyebrows climb higher, and there's something in his expression that suggests he's genuinely intrigued rather than just skeptical. "And where exactly did you learn rotary engine repair? YouTube?"

This absolute jackass—

"Uncle's garage," you say, keeping it vague on purpose. "Started sweeping floors when I was eight. Graduated to actual engine work by fourteen. Rebuilt my first rotary at fifteen."

"Which garage?" Taeyang asks, sudden interest in his voice.

You hesitate—because any specific details might create connections you don't want. Connections to the Hayashi.

No fucking way.

Your reputation here was built on skill, not family money or connections. You've worked your ass off to earn respect based on merit alone.

"Just a local place," you say finally. "Been working there since I was—"

"Alright, I'll check it out with you."

The words stop you mid-sentence. You blink, processing what he just said.

"Excuse me?"

"You heard me." He grins, challenge in his expression. "If you're gonna diagnose my boy's engine, I want to see this legendary mechanical expertise in action."

You stare at him. "You don't trust my assessment?"

"I didn't say that."

"Then why—"

"Because this should be interesting."

The way he says it makes your pulse spike with irritation.

Like you're some kind of entertaining novelty rather than someone with legitimate mechanical knowledge. Like he's humoring you rather than acknowledging your skills.

Fine.

If he wants a demonstration, you'll give him one.

"Whatever," you say, voice deliberately casual. "Just don't disturb me while I work."

You move toward Taeyang's car, pulling a hair tie from your pocket to get your hair out of the way.

You can feel Jaque's eyes on you on the periphery.

You ignore it.

Back to the work at hand—The RX-7's engine bay is cramped and complex—rotary engines pack a lot of components into a small space—but you've worked on enough of them to navigate the maze of hoses, wires, and manifolds.

"You got a flashlight?" you ask Taeyang.

He hands you a small LED light from his glovebox, and you click it on and lean into the engine bay, immediately focusing on the areas most likely to show damage from an over-rev situation.

The first thing you check is the coolant system.

Rotary engines run hot under normal conditions, and an over-rev situation generates enough heat to cause catastrophic cooling system failure.

You trace the hoses with your eyes and hands, looking for signs of bursting or leakage.

"Coolant seal's definitely blown," you confirm, voice slightly muffled by the hood. "But that's not necessarily catastrophic. Seals are consumable items anyway."

Behind you, you hear Jaque moving closer.

You can feel his presence even without looking—that annoying awareness you've never been able to shake.

Irritating, the way he seems to take up more space than he should.

"What about the scoring?" he asks.

You aim the flashlight deeper into the engine bay, examining the intermediate housing where the rotors make contact.

What you see makes you frown.

"Hand me that rag," you say to Taeyang.

He passes you the greasy cloth, and you use it to wipe away some of the accumulated grime around the housing.

The scoring is there, but it's not as extensive as you initially feared.

"It's there," you admit, "but it's not as bad as it could be. Most of this is just normal wear. The over-rev didn't help, but it didn't destroy everything."

You straighten up, wiping your hands on the rag.

All four of them are watching you with varying degrees of attention—Taeyang hopeful, Maya amused, and Jaque…

Unreadable.

"So what's the verdict?" Taeyang asks.

"The coolant seal definitely needs replacement. Probably the apex seals too, just to be safe. The scoring on the housing isn't great, but it's not rebuild-territory either. With some careful cleaning and new seals, you could probably get back on the road."

"How much?" The question comes out tight, like he's bracing for bad news.

You run quick calculations in your head.

Parts, labor, shop time…

"Maybe eighty thousand yen if you do the work yourself. Double that if you pay someone else to do it."

The relief on Taeyang's face is immediate and obvious.

Eighty thousand yen is still a significant expense, but it's manageable. It's the difference between being back on the road in two weeks versus being sidelined for months.

"You sure about that assessment?" Jaque asks.

You turn to look at him, eyebrow raised. "Are you questioning my diagnosis?"

"Just want to make sure we're not missing anything." He steps closer to the engine bay, leaning in to examine the same areas you just checked. "Because if Yangie gets this thing back together and it grenades on the first race, that's on us."

"It's on me," you correct. "I made the assessment. I take responsibility for it."

Jaque blinks at you, but doesn't comment. Instead, goes back to examining.

You watch him trace the same components you just checked, noting how his hands move confidently.

It speaks of someone who's spent serious time working on cars. Not just maintaining them, but actually building and rebuilding them.

Frustrating.

It would be so much easier to dismiss him if he was just another pretty boy with a fast car and no real knowledge.

But watching him work makes it clear that his reputation isn't built on luck or money alone.

"Coolant seal's definitely toast," he confirms after a few minutes. "But yeah, the housing damage isn't as bad as it looked. Good call on the apex seals though—no point putting this back together with worn seals."

You resist the urge to say 'I told you so.'

Barely.

"So we're good?" Taeyang asks, looking between the two of you.

"We're good," you confirm. "Just need to source the parts and find time to do the work."

"Rico probably has the seal kits in stock," Taeyang says immediately. "And if not, I know a guy in Yokohama who specializes in rotary stuff."

"What about workspace?" Jaque asks. "This isn't really a parking lot repair job, and Rico's spot is packed."

Good point.

Replacing rotary seals requires clean conditions, proper tools, and enough space to lay out components in order.

It's precision work that can't be rushed or done halfheartedly.

"I can get us bay time," you say without really thinking about it. "After hours."

The offer surprises you almost as much as it surprises them.

You're not in the habit of volunteering garage space for other people's projects, especially not when it involves the jerk and his circle.

But Taeyang's a solid driver, and this wasn't his fault.

And even if it costs you to admit it, you respect Jaque's loyalty to his friends.

"You sure about that?" Taeyang asks. "I can pay for the bay time."

"Don't worry about it." You wave off his concern. "Won't be a problem."

"When?" Jaque asks.

"Tomorrow night, probably. Give Yang time to source the parts, and give you time to handle whatever race you've got scheduled."

"Yeah," he says. "Tomorrow works."

The conversation is promptly interrupted.

A commotion from the other side of the parking lot.

Raised voices, the sound of car doors slamming, the general atmosphere of tension that signals trouble.

All four of you turn toward the noise, and you immediately spot the source of the problem.

Police cars.

Three of them, moving slowly through the lot with their spotlights sweeping across the assembled cars and people.

Not racing toward anything specific—just the general patrol presence that every underground meet dreads.

"Shit," Maya breathes. "Time to go."

Engines start firing up across the space, conversations cut off mid-sentence, and the universal message spreads without anyone having to say it out loud: scatter, now, before this turns into something worse.

You move toward your AE86 without hesitation, muscle memory taking over.

Maya's already pulling out her car keys.

Taeyang looks torn between his broken RX-7 and the need to get away from the police presence.

"Leave it," Jaque's tone goes harsh. "We'll come back for it later when things cool down."

"I'm not leaving my car—"

"Taeyang." There's a warning tilt in the way he says his friend's name now. "It's not worth the risk. We'll get it later."

"Your car's fucked anyway," Maya cuts in, already moving toward her Silvia. "Can't drive it, can't race it. What's the point of getting arrested over a paperweight?"

Taeyang's jaw ticks. "It's not a paperweight."

"Right now it is." She throws him a look over her shoulder. "Come on, don't be stupid."

The police spotlights get closer—radio chatter from one of the patrol cars loud enough to be heard.

"Shit, they got unmarked units too," someone calls out from across the lot.

The urgency ratchets up another notch.

"Tiz." Taeyang's voice carries frustration and something else—concern. "The fuck you gonna do without a car?"

"I'll figure something out—"

Maya's engine roars to life immediately, exhaust note cutting through the chaos. She leans out her window, eyes finding Taeyang across the lot.

"Taeyang! Move your ass!"

He makes a sound of frustration, but it doesn't take him even two seconds to start jogging towards her.

You don't miss the way his shoulders relax the moment he slides into her passenger seat. Like he's exactly where he's supposed to be.

Which leaves Jaque standing there, carless, while police spotlights sweep closer to your section of the lot.

"Y/N." His voice comes from directly behind you. Close. "You know the back exit?"

You unlock your door. "Yeah."

"Mind if I—"

"Get in."

The words come out before you can think about them; before you can consider the implications of Jaque in your passenger seat, in your space, close enough to touch.

You slide into the driver's seat and fire up the engine.

This is what home actually feels like—everything exactly where it should be, everything perfectly calibrated for your hands, your reflexes, your driving style.

Jaque opens the passenger door and the dynamic shifts immediately.

You hate how small your car feels with him in it.

The minimal interior that you love for its racing purity suddenly seems intimate rather than functional.

He settles into the passenger seat way too nonchalantly, one arm draped along the door frame, fingers drumming against the roof.

The position does things to his shoulders, fabric of his shirt stretching across his chest. He tilts his head back against the headrest, and you catch a glimpse of the line of his throat in your peripheral vision before forcing your attention back to the road.

Fucking annoying.

"Cozy," he comments, and there's amusement in his voice despite the urgency of the situation.

"Don't touch anything."

"Kinda makes me wanna touch more, princesa."

He spreads his legs slightly, knee nearly brushing the center console, and now it's like the space between the seats has shrunk.

As if his mere fucking presence on its own fills the car in ways that shouldn't be humanly possible.

Besides the sufferable smirk you can hear in his voice.

When he reaches up to adjust the rearview mirror—checking behind you for police, probably—the movement draws your eye to the line of his forearm, the way his fingers curl around the mirror's edge.

His tattoos.

You had never really paid attention to what they show or the meaning they harbor.

Somehow, now, you're curious.

But right now, it's whatever; because you've got bigger problems than your passenger's… passenger-ness.

Like the police sweep happening behind you.

In your rearview mirror, Maya's Silvia falls into position behind you, Taeyang's silhouette visible in her passenger seat.

It's no mystery they're sitting closer than necessary—Maya's not exactly built for long-limbed passengers, but still.

Another set of headlights sweeps across the lot.

Not police this time—unmarked sedan, but with the telltale antennas and spotlight configuration that screams undercover unit.

"Fuck," Jaque mutters. "They're serious tonight."

"They're always serious." You shift into first gear, hands steady on the wheel despite the adrenaline starting to spike. "The question is whether they're smart."

"Smart how?"

"Smart enough to block the obvious exits before they started their sweep."

You've been through enough police raids to know the pattern. The smart cops set up checkpoints on the main drags before they move in on the lot. The lazy ones just roll in loud and hope to catch whoever's too slow or too stupid to run.

"Well," Jaque says, settling back into the seat with that stupid attitude of his that should not be attractive but somehow is. "Guess we're about to find out which kind we're dealing with."

The service road you're heading for is narrow and poorly lit, tucked behind the warehouse that borders Daikoku's rear boundary. Most people don't even know it exists—just a maintenance access that leads to a residential street about half a mile away.

It's risky. If a patrol car happens to be watching that exit, you're trapped.

But it's better than trying to leave through the main entrance where half the lot is already bottlenecked.

"You sure about this route?" Jaque asks.

"No." You downshift as you approach the narrow opening between buildings. "But it's better than sitting here waiting for them to run our plates."

The 86 slips through the gap with inches to spare on either side.

Behind you, Maya follows, her Silvia's wider body kit making the squeeze even tighter.

"Fuck, that's close," Jaque comments.

"Maya knows what she's doing."

"I wasn't worried about Maya."

You glance at him, noting the way his free hand rests casually in his lap, no white knuckles or nervous fidgeting.

Either he trusts your driving completely, or he's very good at hiding his nerves.

The service road stretches ahead of you, potholed and uneven, designed for maintenance trucks rather than performance cars.

You keep the speed reasonable—fast enough to put distance between yourselves and the police sweep, but not so fast that you bottom out the 86's lowered suspension on a hidden crater.

"So," Jaque says after a few minutes of navigation. "Tomorrow night. This garage where you learned to build rotaries."

"What about it?"

"Just curious. Not many people your age know their way around a 13B the way you do."

You can feel him watching you in the dim light from the dashboard, trying to read something in your expression.

Probing for information you're not willing to give.

And it's a bit unsettling, the way he's studying you. Because most people in the scene take you at face value—the skilled driver with the built AE86 who showed up one day and started winning races. They don't dig deeper because your driving speaks for itself.

But Jaque isn't most people.

"Not many people start working at eight years old," you say, voice neutral.

"Eight." He repeats the number like he's testing it. "That's young. Even for family business."

Family business.

It's a bold assumption, but a correct one.

Damn him and his perception.

"Not family," you lie smoothly. "Just a family friend who needed someone to sweep floors and organize parts."

"And this family friend taught you to rebuild rotaries."

"Among other things."

Jaque's quiet for a moment, and you can practically hear him processing this information, filing it away with whatever other details he's collected about you over the months.

The silence stretches.

Not comfortable. Never comfortable with him.

You reach for the gear shift, muscle memory guiding your hand through the familiar motion. Third gear. Engine settling into its rhythm.

The movement pulls your tank top slightly, fabric shifting against skin.

You catch it in your peripheral vision—the way his gaze drops. Deliberate. Unhurried.

He's looking.

Actually looking.

At the way the black cotton clings.

At the neckline that sits lower than you'd prefer but higher than most girls around here dare to wear.

At the curve that's always been more than other girls your age carry in this society, the one that draws attention you never asked for.

"Nice tank top." His voice carries that lazy drawl, eyebrows climbing with obvious appreciation.

Of course he makes a show of it—letting his gaze drift down and linger, like he's got every right to look. Like you're something on display.

Heat flares up the back of your neck. Instant. Unwelcome.

Is he fucking serious right now?

Your hand moves automatically, tugging the neckline higher.

Habit. Defense mechanism.

The same motion you've been making since you were sixteen and realized that this particular genetic lottery came with complications.

"Thanks," you say, voice flat as asphalt. "Compliments my urge to tell you to fuck off."

He laughs. Actually laughs, the sound filling the small space between you.

"Heeeey now," he drawls, and there's something in his voice that's pure trouble. "I wasn't complaining."

The back of your neck burns hotter. You rub at it with your free hand, trying to erase the feeling, the awareness of his eyes still on you.

Asshole.

"I am. Keep your eyes on the road, nuthead."

"I'm not driving, princesa."

"Then keep them on your own fucking side of the car."

His only response is a snort. Then, quiet.

Minutes pass.

The tension in your shoulders doesn't ease.

If anything, his sudden silence makes it worse—like he's thinking about something you don't want him thinking about.

"You know," he says finally, "most mechanics would charge serious money for rotary knowledge. Especially someone good enough to diagnose Yang's engine damage that accurately."

"So?"

"So I'm wondering why you offered to help for free."

You take a right turn onto a wider street, finally emerging from the industrial maze into a residential area. Normal streetlights, normal traffic patterns, normal life continuing oblivious to the underground drama playing out in parking lots across the city.

"Maybe I just don't like seeing good drivers sidelined by amateur mistakes."

"Maybe. Or maybe there's something else."

Before you can ask what the hell that's supposed to mean, Maya's voice makes an appearance.

She's pulled up beside you at a red light, window down, calling across the gap between cars.

"Babe, I know a place we can actually park without worrying about cops."

Taeyang leans forward in her passenger seat. "There's a 24-hour konbini about ten minutes from here. Lot's usually empty this time of night."

"Lead the way," you call back.

The light turns green, and Maya takes off with a chirp of tires that's totally unnecessary but perfectly Maya.

Show-off, your girl.

Gotta love her for that.

"They're interesting together," Jaque observes.

"They're idiots together," you correct. "Maya's been hung up on him for months, and he's too dense to notice."

"Or too smart to acknowledge it."

You glance at him, surprised by the insight. "What's that supposed to mean?"

"Sometimes the timing's wrong. Sometimes other things have to happen first." His voice drops lower, more thoughtful. "Sometimes you're not ready for what someone's offering, even when you want it."

You glance at him for a second before your own voice fills the car instead.

"Sometimes, you don't have much choice."

Now it's his turn to steal a glance at you. He doesn't say anything else, however.

But the air suddenly feels denser.

Which is ridiculous.

You follow Maya's taillights through a series of residential streets, the Silvia's exhaust note echoing off buildings as she navigates toward whatever sanctuary she has in mind.

"So," you say, needing to fill the silence. "This race tomorrow. Half a million yen, Taeyang said."

"Yeah." The playfulness drops out of his voice entirely. "Something like that."

"Must be important."

"It is."

That's all he offers.

No details, no explanation of why this particular race matters enough to have Rico working on his car at night, why Taeyang was so concerned about disrupting the preparation schedule.

He's always like that, you note. Always loud and nosy about what he wants people knowing, but quiet and vague about what he doesn't want anybody knowing.

Like his mango allergy, apparently.

"Well," you say as Maya's brake lights flare ahead of you, signaling the turn into the konbini parking lot. "Don't crash."

"Worried about me, chiquita?"

"Worried about having to find a new rival," you correct, pulling into a parking space next to Maya's Silvia. "The scene's boring enough without you disappearing."

It's not entirely a lie.

Jaque chuckles as he reaches for the door handle. "Don't worry, gatita. I'm not that easy to get rid of."

Before you can respond to that—and you're not sure what you would have said anyway—he's already getting out of the car, leaving you alone with the lingering scent of hinoki and leather.

And the uncomfortable realization that some part of you was actually worried about tomorrow's race.

goal: 300 notes

taglist: @cannotalwaysbenight @taevescence @itstoastsworld @somehowukook @stutixmaru @chloepiccoliniii @kimnamjoonmiddletoe @annyeongbitch7 @mar-lo-pap @mikrokookiex @minniejim @curse-of-art @mellyyyyyyx @rpwprpwprpwprw @jkrailme @weasleyswizarding-wheezes @dltyum @dailynnt @sashakittyct @bjoriis @hemmosfear @bettytta

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consistencynevermether · 7 months ago

Note

Hellooo I absolutely love your writing and Vere series!! I was wondering if maybe you could write Vere reacting to the MC getting pretty injured?? From a Soulless or otherwise? Thank you so much!! <333

I'm so glad you like the series!! this fic got a little long, its just so much fun to write vere dialouge. Thank you for the ask!

content: vere x gn! reader, SFW, cannon typical swearing and mentions of serious injuries, 2.5k words

52. That's how many tiles you had counted on the ceiling of Kuras’s clinic so far. You had woken up about an hour ago, your shoulder bandaged, laying in one of the beds in Kuras’s clinic, with Vere standing on the other side of the room, pacing back and forth. When you woke, he barely spared you a glance and continued to pace, the clicking of his heels was the only sound in the room.

You were in trouble. Big trouble.

You tried to piece together your memories of what happened earlier that night. Your head was pounding, but the memories returned to you easily enough.

You had been working at the clinic earlier and Kuras had asked you to deliver something to Ais. You had plenty of time to deliver the package, but you got caught up talking to Ais and petting Princess. By the time you were out of Ais’s territory, it was already sundown. You weren't too worried about it though. You had killed a few soulless since getting to Eridia, and you had the dagger Mihn had gifted you strapped to your thigh. But this one was different. It was bigger, stronger, faster than any of the other soulless you had thought before. You put up a good fight. You were smart and dodged when you needed to, struck its weak points with the dagger, and gave the fight all your focus. But this soulless was simply out of your skill range, and all it needed was one chance to latch on, and you were down. The soulless had found an opening and taken a massive chunk out of you, its rotting fangs sinking into your shoulder.

Everything after that was just darkness. Until you had woken up in one of the clinic rooms about an hour ago. You don't know how you got there, but Vere was there when you woke up, and clearly not happy with you.

You wanted to fix this before it became a problem. Vere had a nasty habit of being upset with you and instead of telling you why he was upset, he would simply avoid you, and you would have to track him down. The last thing you wanted was to try and track him through Hightown with an injured shoulder, so it was best if you talked this out now, while he was pacing back and forth in your room.

“Hey,” you cautioned. “So uh, I don't suppose you know how I got here?” you asked.

Vere looked down at you, his mouth twisting into a combination of a cruel smirk and a grimace.

“Oh you mean how did you end up at the hospital? The hospital run by the most insufferable person in all of Eridia? With half of your shoulder missing? Is that what you mean? Is THAT what you're asking me right now? Or MAYBE your asking about the part where I found your stupid ass half dead and bleeding out in the filthy fucking street, and had to drag you all the way here.”

A tight, fake smile was plastered on Vere’s face as he spoke, while rage stormed in his eyes. You don't know what you said wrong, but it was most certainly wrong. You had never seen Vere so pissed at you before.

You cleared your throat, not yet ready to throw in the towel and give in to Vere's anger. You could still talk to each other like the civil adults you were.

“Well, thank you for-” you started

“THAT’S WHAT YOU HAVE TO SAY FOR YOURSELF? THANK YOU?” Vere bellowed, looking more unhinged by the second.

Welp, so much for civility.

“Well, what do you want me to say, Vere?” you snipped, annoyance bleeding into your tone. You already had a headache from the blood loss; you didn't need someone yelling at you, either.

“Oh no, you do not get to have an attitude with me.” Vere snapped back. “Can you even comprehend how lucky you are? The only reason I found you was because the Sinobium had been getting complaints in Lowtown about the soulless. If not for that, I would be in Hightown right now doing jack shit while YOU would be a corpse cooling in the grime.”

“I'll be more-”

The words caught in your throat. What you wanted to say was “I'll be more careful”.

But you had been careful. You were alert, you traveled on all the best-lit roads, and you were armed. You had taken every precaution. And you had still nearly died. You couldn't hold back the bitter feeling at how outclassed you had been, especially since if Vere saved you, that meant he had probably killed the soulless that had taken you down with barely any struggle. There was nothing you could have done to have made that fight go any better.

“What do you want from me, Vere? To just hide in my room two hours before the sun even begins to set to ensure nothing ever happens?”

“Yes?!?!?” Vere responded as if it was the most obvious answer to exist.

“Vere, I have work to do. That's obviously not feasible. And even if it was, I won't live my life in fear of the darkness.” you countered.

Vere threw his head back and gave a bark of laughter.

“You know what, you're so right.” Sarcasm dripped in Vere's voice. “What is the worst that could happen after all? It's not like there's a risk of you DYING IN THE STREETS.”

When Vere got mad, it made you more aware of the monster he was. When he yelled in rage, you could see all his fangs. When he waved his hands around in exasperation, you could hear the claws whiff against the air, as if they were sharp enough to cut through even oxygen. His ears were pressed flat against his head, and there was a snarl to his voice. This changed nothing to you, of course. You always knew what he was. He was just so good at disarming people with his charm, it was easy to forget he was built to be a killer. Even you, one of the people closest to him, were not immune to his disarming act.

You opened your mouth to counter, but the words died in your throat once again. He made a good point. It wasn't a feasible point, but you understood his rage. You were really just arguing with him to avoid the shame you felt at how absolutely outclassed you felt. You couldn't just hide away from the world, you were working on top of trying to find a way to cure yourself and free Vere. You couldn't afford to just hide away and live in fear. But with that being said, if you had been in his position tonight, you would be just as upset.

Damnit.

After a long pause, you finally spoke again.

“I'm sorry. I can’t put my life on hold because of this. But I will be more cautious when the sun sets. And I will keep training so next time I can get away. That's the best compromise I can offer you. And I am sorry Vere. I didn't mean to upset you. Or almost die.”

You tried to give the last part of that sentence a lighthearted tone, in an attempt to lift the mood.

You expected more yelling. But instead when you looked at Vere, he was just quiet. After a few more agonizing moments of silence, you half expected him to walk out right then and there. Or throw a chair at your head.

But to your shock, he simply hung his head and sat down on your bed.

You quickly scooted over to make room for him.

He let out a long sigh and unceremoniously leaned down to flop his head on your chest. After a few moments, you felt like it was safe enough you could start gently stroking his head.

You lightly petted the base of his ears and ran your fingers through his hair. For a moment, everything was calm.

And then your fingers hit something wet and sticky in Vere's hair. You looked down at your hand, and your fingers were red.

Blood.

Shit shit shit shit. Did he actually get injured when he saved you from that soulless? You hastily pushed Vere’s face off your chest and grabbed his chin, roughly tilting it to your line of sight to look for injuries.

Vere looked shocked for a second, but easily removed your hand from his chin like it was nothing.

“What exactly was that for?” he questioned, irritation noticeable in his voice.

But you couldn't answer. You could only focus on the fact that he was covered in blood. It was obvious. How the hell did you not even notice until now? The blood didn't really show on his black clothes, but red was splattered on his face and had matted half his hair, making it look wet. Vere did already naturally have a very red pallet, and it wasn't uncommon to see him covered in blood at all. But still, how were you so focused on arguing with him you hadn't even noticed that he was covered in blood?

You could feel a pit of guilt and fear well up inside you.

“You're injured, I'm getting Kuras” you firmly stated.

Kuras and Vere may not like each other, but you knew Kuras wouldn't turn away anyone. And if Vere was too proud to ask for help, you'd gladly do it yourself.

As you stood, you felt a pair of clawed hands wrap around your waist and pull you back down onto the bed.

You tried to twist around and squirm free, but it was useless. Vere wasn't hurting you, but his grip was firm enough that you wouldn't be able to force your way out.

“Vere don't be childish, y-”

You heard a sigh from behind you as Vere rested his chin on your shoulder.

“This is your blood, not mine” he mumbled.

Ah. you once again tried to squirm out of Vere's grasp, and this time he released you with another sigh.

You sat down on the bed properly and faced him. Your blood was everywhere. It splattered across his face and completely coated the right side of his chest. Drip lines of blood ran all the way to his knee on his left side and both his arms were coated in red.

You subconsciously moved to touch your shoulder, it was a little sore and stiff, but other than that fine.

Of course, you then remembered how Kuras had reattached your arm that first day in Eridia. You were on death's door then. So how badly injured had you been tonight?

You tried to remember the details of your absolute pummeling, but it was mostly a haze.

Not good, you could imagine. Judging by how much blood was on Vere, and how upset he was, you probably actually were on death's door when he brought you here.

But he had brought you here. Despite his hatred for Kuras, he had forgotten his pride to help you. Damnit, now you really felt bad for arguing with him earlier.

You shifted in the bed again, this time you rested your head on his shoulder, and he easily adjusted, laying his hands behind your shoulders and lightly drawing circles on your back with his fingers. It tickled a little.

“Vere” you mumbled into his chest. “I really am sorry.”

There was a pause before he responded. It felt like a lifetime.

“You're just so vulnerable.” He finally whispered after a few seconds of silence.

Once again embarrassment welled up inside you for being taken down so easily, but you knew Vere wasn’t trying to tease you about it.

Besides you, Ais was his closest friend. And no soulless could touch Ais. And everyone else he knew, whether they be allies or enemies, was also strong. Or at least capable. Most of them could have probably defeated the soulless that took you down. It’s not that you were weak, it’s that you were new. You didn’t know this city like they did, and you didn’t have the experience they all had killing creatures like the soulless. You were painfully aware of how much you needed to improve. But now, you were also aware of how uncomfortable this probably was for Vere.

He wasn’t used to having people around him who could just die over "nothing", so you couldn't blame him for reacting poorly. He'd never had to worry over another person's life like he had to do with you. You must have seemed so delicate to him, like a glass sculpture. You could almost understand why he wanted to keep something so fragile under lock and key.

But you weren't made of glass. You were a person. You could evolve. You would get smarter, stronger, more skilled. And you would do just that. Because you didn't want to die in the streets. And you didn't want to upset Vere again.

You leaned in closer to Vere, catching the scent of lavender on him. It was calming. Grounding. You could feel your eyelids growing heavy with exhaustion.

“Vere,” you mumbled. “Tomorrow, come to my room, I’ll brush your hair as a thank you.”

“I can’t. The Sinobium has me booked for the day” he replied.

“That's fine.” you yawned. “I can wait till you get off. For now, I can wash some of the blood off you.”

As you said this, you began to lazily move towards the basin and sponge at the side of the bed.

You could feel Vere hold you a little tighter as you tried to move away.

He didn't say anything, he didn't need to.

“Oh. the Sinobium wants you to go back to work right now, don't they?” you questioned.

“Mhm,” Vere responded. “I've pushed their grace limit as it is, staying for this long. But I'll stay for just a little longer. Go to sleep.”

“You won't be here when I wake up?”

“No.”

“But you will come to see me when you're finished, right?”

“You'll probably be out working.”

“So wait for me. You don't need a key to get into my room. You made that evident with how much you come in uninvited. You didn't even need to steal my key that day we met.” You insisted.

Vere chuckled lightly at the memory and continued gently tracing circles on your back.

“Vere?”

“Mhm?”

“You will come to see me right? You're not still mad?”

“I'm still mad at you,” he confirmed. “But I’ll be there.”

Satisfied with that answer, you allowed yourself to finally drift off to sleep. When you woke, it was just you alone in that room.

You weren't worried though, you knew a certain fox would darken your doorstep very soon.

#vere my beloved #vere x mc #vere x reader #vere #touchstarved fic #touchstarved x reader #touchstarved fanfic #touchstarved fanfiction #touchstarved game #touchstarved #vere touchstarved #touchstarved vere #touchstarved mc

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freneticfloetry · 15 days ago

Text

Welp, this damn fic violently zigged instead of zagged yesterday, to the tune of two thousand unplanned words. And as is usually the case when this happens, the words I hadn’t planned actually worked better. So sadly, I had to say goodbye to this bit and a big chunk of what came after. RIP, snippet, may you live on here (or even in some other fic in the future).

This isn't remotely seven sentences (and not a single em dash to be found. Sacrilege.). Thanks to @heartstringsduet @carlos-in-glasses @carlossreaders and @lemonlyman-dotcom for the tags this week.

Tommy takes a deep breath and tries to remember that they talk shit like this through, now, that they're all the better together for it. That his last scared shitless effort to run from feeling this overwhelming everything for Evan Buckley hadn't actually been about Eddie at all. “Not to put roller skates on the elephant in the room,” he says, bone dry, “but… honey, Eddie obviously loves you.” “No, I know. I know he does. I just…” Evan screws up his face in a way that’s wants to be thoughtful but only ends up resigned and sort of sad. “I’m not sure he actually likes me very much? Like, if I’m not helping him solve some problem, then I kind of… am one. Something else he has to handle. And maybe that worked when Chris was younger, you know? Or when Eddie was struggling or shot or had issues with women that actually made sense, and there was always something I could do. But Chris is getting older, and I, I couldn’t keep him here, and I kind of caused Eddie’s last injury myself, so...” He shrugs a bit, shoulders briefly bunched around his ears, and it may be the single saddest thing that Tommy's ever seen. “Now it’s just the part of me that’s a problem and all these things I can’t fix, and I don’t think he knows what to do that. With me.”

Man, I don't know how y'all write in multiple fandoms at once. There are so many conflicting character feels and different ship dynamics in my head right now that I don't know what to do with myself. Kudos to everyone who can handle it, rock on with your bad selves.

Tagging in @liminalmemories21 @never-blooms @paperstorm @rmd-writes @anincompletelist @reyesstrand @strandnreyes @carlos-tk @afiendishthingynisba @herefortarlos @rcmclachlan @orchidscript @ladytessa74 @walkinginland @lightningboltreader @emsprovisions @alrightbuckaroo @bonheur-cafe @firstprince-history-huh @chococara25 @cha-melodius @firenati0n @hoko-onchi-writes and @welcometololaland

#tag games #seven sentence sunday #bucktommy #tevan fic #drabbles and ficlets and outtakes oh my

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hazyfaith · 15 days ago

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Stay the Night

Pairing: Creature!Vessel x Reader CW: Fluff, little bit of self doubt, love - loads of it.

Summary: After being turned into a vessel of Sleep, he never had anyone other than the other vessels spend the night in the manor, until today.

Word Count: 1.7k a/n: thanks everyone for the love on my other fics! it means so much to me! also, let's pretend that creatures are somewhat commons and accepted in this! lowkey wanna write creature!vessels in mundane situations.

A laugh escapes your lips at what Vessel said. The movie credits are still rolling, but Vessel can’t be bothered to turn the TV off before expressing his dislikes.

“I just don’t understand why she did it!” he exclaims while laughing, making your head on his chest bounce. “She had literally no reason to go with him. She knew he was up to no good and she still went with him, that’s ridiculous!”

As you go to add to his desperation regarding how bad the movie was, your eyes catch the TV box. The glowing numbers display a late time, past midnight. It’s late, later than you thought. Not once have you looked at the clock the whole time you’ve been at his place. You never even thought about it, his company too enjoyable to ever want to leave.

Despite having a good time, you still know that you should’ve been home hours ago. It is quite a ride from his place in the middle of the woods to yours in the city. Even if you leave now you would only make it home at the early hours of the morning.

“Is everything ok?” Vessel asks, getting you out of your thoughts.

You move your gaze from the time towards his face, seeing the worry in his face. You realize your eyebrows have been knitted together, only to immediately relax your face and force a smile.

As he waits for your answer, he begins to worry. The day he just spent with you had been fantastic, or so he thought. You’d both been physically close and touchy all day, but maybe cuddling up for the movie made you uncomfortable? The conversations you’d had throughout the day had been pretty lively, maybe too much? Perhaps he was talking too much for your liking.

“Yeah, it's just- it's quite late. I should maybe get going…” You reply shyly, stopping him from spiraling any more.

His six eyes immediately look over at the glowing numbers, making him realise that it is later than he expected. He remembers you saying that you couldn’t stay too late, but here you are, laying on him on the couch.

You begin to pull away from him and stand up, only for thunder to startle you. You fall backward on Vessel, a small welp leaving your mouth, and his arms automatically wrap around you. You sprawl over him, putting all your weight on him. Once you’re aware of your current position, your cheeks begin to burn and you scramble to get back up. Standing in front of him, you straighten your shirt, trying to bring his attention away from the embarrassment that is plastered on your face.

“Maybe you should stay…” he suggests before you can make any move towards the door, taking your hand in his, softly rubbing his thumb over the back of it, making sure to not claw you.

“I don’t want to impose. I’ve been over for the whole day, I don’t want to overstay my welcome. I can drive home, it’s no-” another loud boom resonates, cutting you off.

“It’s safer for you to stay here. I don’t want you driving in this weather,” he decides, leaving no room for discussion. You won’t be getting into an accident, not under his watch.

“Alright, um, I don’t have any pj’s…”

“That’s not a problem, I’ll give you something to wear,” he says.

He doesn’t make a move to get up just yet, and looks up at you. His leg begins to shake up and down. You tilt your head to the left, trying to read his expression, only for him to hop on his feet. He makes his way down the hall towards his bedroom, pulling you with him by the arm. Despite how big his manor is, you quickly end up in front of what you assume is his bedroom’s closed door.

As he reaches for the handle you can see his hand shaking. Once he grabs it, he hesitates a little before opening the door and entering the room. You follow him in and he goes straight to his closet, taking some shirts out and throwing them on his bed. He then moves to his drawers and pulls out a couple pairs of shirts and pants.

While he chooses the clothes he wants to give you for the night, you take this time to look around. Everything screams Vessel. The notebooks scattered on his desk show how he never stops writing, never even at night. The white guitar on the wall contrasts with how dark all the furniture is. You take a look out of the big window and see lightning and rain droplets hitting the ground hard. Driving in this weather would be difficult to say the least.

“You can pick whatever you like,” he says as he closes the drawers and points to what he threw on the bed, pulling you out of your thoughts.

You move forward, looking at the scattered clothes and pick an old band tee and a pair of shorts. You turn around, facing Vessel while holding up what you chose. You look at him intensely, waiting for him to notice. It takes him a second but he catches on, telling you where the bathroom is.

On your way to the bathroom, Vessel begins to put everything back where it belongs. He finishes too early for his liking, taking a seat on his bed. As he waits for you to finish changing, his black fingers tap rhythmically against the nightstand. It’s been a while since someone other than the vessels have slept over at his house. He never got close enough to someone to let see him in such a vulnerable position. His eyes roam around his bedroom, looking for any mess. As he’s scanning everything he can see, you enter the room and his gaze shifts immediately to be on you.

His breath catches in his throat as he sees you in his clothes, his claws stopping their movement against the furniture. You look cute, really cute. His six eyes blink slowly as he looks at you. He feels the heat spread on his cheeks, prompting him to look away. Despite trying not to stare at you, he still catches the way you fidget with the hem of his shirt. He clears his throat and takes a deep breath before looking back at you through one pair of eyes.

“You can sleep in my bed,” he says, tapping the dark green comforter. “I’ll take the couch or another bed.”

“What? No! I can take the couch. You’re nice enough to let me crash here, I won’t take your bed,” you object.

“It’s the least I can do. I won’t let you go and drive at night through a storm, that’s dangerous and I don’t want to put you in a dangerous situation. So you’ll take my bed and be safe for the night,” he says firmly, his voice full of care.

Vessel stands up and takes a pillow from his bed before moving away. As he makes his way through the room and to the hall, you focus on the bed and chew on your lower lip. You’ve been together for quite some time now, and perhaps it was time for you to spend the night together, in the same bed. You’ve accidentally fallen asleep on him a couple of times already, this couldn’t be too different.

“How about sharing your bed?” You ask shyly.

Vessel stops dead in his tracks and turns around, “Are- Are you sure?”

“Yes… Only if you’re comfortable with it.”

“Um, sure, we can share my bed,” he agrees, making his way back in his bedroom. He throws his pillow back on his bed before sitting down and tapping the space beside him for you to join.

“I usually sleep without a shirt on, I run a little hot…” he mumbles. “But I can keep it on if you’re more comfortable!” He quickly adds.

“No, it’s fine, I don’t mind,” you answer truthfully.

Vessel’s hands go to the hem of his shirt, fidgeting with it a little before pulling it over his head and discarding it on the floor. The red of his cheeks deepen even more as you can now see most of him. Without his shirt, you can clearly see the gradient on his skin.

He pushes down the sheets and lies on his back underneath them, opening his arms for you. You waste no time getting in bed with him, lying down beside him with your head on his chest. He pulls the dark green comforter over the both of you before he lets his arms softly fall on you, pulling you slightly closer.

Neither of you move for a little while, neither of you wanting to disturb the other. You observe his arm in front of you before your hand instinctively touches it. You trail your fingernails on his arm, going from the black of his hand to the white of his shoulder. Vessel gets a whole body shiver at your touch, making you chuckle as it shakes you too.

With the arm that is resting behind you, he begins to play with your hair and scratches your scalp with his claws. The more he does it, the slower your hand begins to move across his skin. Your eyes become heavier, but you fight for them to stay open, just for a little longer. The warmth of his body envelops you, not helping you to stay awake. The rain hitting the window adds another layer of comfort, knowing that you’re not out there, but cuddling here with your boyfriend, except for when the thunder strikes and startles you once again.

“Go to sleep, I’ve got you,” Vessel whispers.

He haunches forward a little and gives the top of your head a kiss, only for a smile to erupt on your face. He then moves his hand from your head to your back, stroking it gently. It doesn’t take long for your breathing to slow down and get steady, letting Vessel know that you’re fast asleep.

Soon after, Vessel’s hand stops its movement as his body becomes heavier with sleep. He squeezes you one last time before surrendering himself to sleep with you pressed close to him.

#sleep token x reader #vessel x reader #sleep token fanfiction #sleep token fanfic #sleep token fan fiction #my writing

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the-thing-withfeathers · 11 months ago

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SAVE A HORSE…

a/n: this is part 1 to a two or three part series!! this is probably the first time i’ve written anything in a LONG ASS TIME. but i hope y’all enjoy it, i’ll be writing more of cowgirl!mads soon. i was gonna do it all in one go but i realise this shit is CHUNKY AS HELL 😫 so please be patient with me while i get part 2 out! i promise y’all it’ll get steamier, i just gotta set the scene!

update: read part 2 here!

pairing: cowgirl!madison beer x f!reader

tws: parental arguments, eventual smut, mention of horse shit— literally.

summary: you’re a little bit of a delinquent and your parents have had enough. they send you to your grandparents farm where you’re put to the test and humbled to the bone. however, they have an incredibly hot farmhand that just might make it all worth it.

•*¨*•.¸¸♪

“we didn’t raise you to be like this.”

“well, who else did?!”

sitting at the back of your parents’ truck, it was almost reminiscent of the back of the police car. you were on your way to a different kind of prison anyways. your parents were talking over the faint noise of the radio while you sat in silence.

you were on your way to your grandparents’ farm. it was hard to believe that your bull-wrangling nan & pop were so different from your corporate parents, you begin to wonder how your mom was raised on that land.

as the truck came to a stop, your parents turned around to face you.

“hey kiddo, it’s only temporary. you know we’re only doing this cause we love you…”

“whatever.” you said, blowing a raspberry at them while you took your earphones out and tucked them into your bag’s side pocket.

your parents turned back to face each other, sheepish smiles starting to form on their faces. they began to question if they were doing the right thing, but as far as you were concerned, there wasn’t any going back from here.

you saw an older couple start to walk towards the driveway, massive smiles on their faces like they didn’t have a care in the world. your dad stepped out of the driver’s seat to shake your grandfather’s hand while your mom gave your grandmother a hug. you watched them talk for a while before your dad opened your door up.

“dad… please… i’ll do anything…” you whispered as the smell of fresh manure hit your nostrils.

“this is anything.” he muttered before turning to the back of the truck and grabbing two luggages out.

you sighed in defeat and hopped out of the truck, lugging your backpack along with you. your grandparents looked at you with pity, they know what happened but it seems like they’re the first people not to hold it against you. your grandmother slowly approached, opening her arms as you walked towards her and gave her a stiff hug.

“i’m sorry sweetie, i know you would probably prefer to stay home. but we’ll try and do right by you as much as we can, alright?” she whispered softly into your ear. it took everything in you not to break down right then and there. after all, you haven’t seen your grandparents in a while, who were you to start crying out of nowhere?

your grandfather stood behind your grandmother with a sad smile. you two used to be so close when you were a kid. in his old age, he never failed to chase you around while you were still a bundle of energy. you know he tried not to show it but you couldn’t help but see disappointment behind those eyes.

“welp, that’s the last of it.” your dad walked back down the driveway, you hadn’t even realised that your parents walked your luggage all the way to the house already.

“you’re not staying for dinner?” your grandfather asked.

“nah, not a long drive ahead of us.” your mom said, standing next to her dad to give him a hug.

your parents & grandparents exchanged goodbyes before your parents walked up to you.

“six months, that’s all it is. then we’ll be right back.” your mom reassured you. she tried to hug you but you stepped back. she huffed. “you’ll be grateful, y’know?” she said, her tone a bit more harsh. she turned sharply and walked her way back to the car.

your dad just gave you a wave, noticing that interaction you had. he thought it would be better to just keep his distance. all you did was nod at him.

they drove off into the sunset, leaving you behind. in the middle of nowhere.

•*¨*•.¸¸♪

your grandparents had dinner set up on the table before you even got there. it smelled amazing, you’ll give them that. you were starved from the drive, choosing to hang back from the pit stop.

they both sat down, inviting you to join them. the first few minutes of dinner were silent, to be fair though, you were kind of wolfing down the chili that grandma had cooked. you put some on your plate then it was gone in the blink of an eye.

your grandfather cleared his throat.

“you know, despite everything. we’re glad to have you here. it’s been a really long time since you’ve come to visit the farm. we’ve always come to the city but… this might be a blessing in disguise.” he said through the spoonful of chili in his mouth. you almost laughed at the sight of him, cracking a smile instead.

“it looks like how i remember it, pop.” you shrugged, glancing around the dining room.

“we try to keep it that way, baby.” your grandma chimed in. “this place is full of memories. memories are meant to be remembered!” she said with a jump in her tone.

“i’m going to disappoint you both. you know i’m not made for farm work.” you sneered a little bit, thinking of the 6am wake-up—

“5am wake upright not your thing?” fuck.

thinking of the 5am wake up— was not sitting well with you.

“no. not at all.” you shook your head, pushing your plate backwards. “i don’t even see animals on a daily basis, the most we get in the city are pigeons. i don’t even have the right clothes!”

“we took care of that!” your grandma excitedly said. “you’ve got enough clothes to last you a week then you’ll have to wash them. we tried to keep it as stylish as possible.”

you know she was just trying to make you feel better. there was no way you were going to be able to pull off the expected flannel get-up.

silence fell over the table as your grandparents finished their food as well. you stood up from the table, ready to head to your bedroom.

“oh— well— now hang on sweetie—“ your grandmother interjected. “you have to excuse yourself… and even then, someone’s gotta help with the washing up.”

you frozen in place and sighed dejectedly. you start clumsily piling the plates together and heading for the sink. you had no idea what you were doing, lazily scrubbing the plates.

when you were done, you made your way up to your bedroom where the open closet was full of new clothes. you knew you would have to work double time to pull them off. your thoughts were interrupted by footsteps.

“you can sleep in tomorrow but you’ll be expected to join us in checking on everything. it’ll be general upkeep. you’ll also meet our best farmhand, she’ll mainly be the one showing you the ropes around here.” your grandmother stood at the doorway. you simply nodded at her and rubbed your eyes.

“night, dear.” she said, stepping back and walking back down the hallway.

“night…” you mumbled, too soft for her to hear.

you changed yourself into a matching pajama set, you stuck out like a damn sore thumb. you’d have to figure out something else to wear to bed if you wanted to avoid all the teasing.

safe to say, as your eyes fell shut almost immediately, tomorrow was going to be hard.

•*¨*•.¸¸♪

as much as you would’ve liked to sleep in until the double digits, your grandparents failed to tell you that they trained a rooster.

you yawned as you started to stir, covering your ears to drown out the endless crowing of this damned rooster. you shut your eyes as tight as you could but nothing seemed to work. you opened your phone to see that first and foremost, there were barely any bars around but enough to get decent signal. secondly, it was 5am— they really meant it when they said 5am wake-up call. you slowly sat up in bed, glancing over at your suitcases then glancing over at your closet. you had a choice to make.

after about eight wardrobe changes, you made your way downstairs in a red & black flannel tucked into some high rise blue jeans. your grandparents were already at the table eating some breakfast.

“well this is a surprise. i take it you’ve met sunny.” your grandfather snorted.

“sunny?” you asked.

“the rooster.” he laughed softly. “he’s a bit relentless. sorry darl, i know you wanted to sleep in. but hey, you’ll be regulating your sleep schedule in no time—“ your grandfather was cut off by the backdoor swinging open.

oh. my. god.

when your grandparents said farmhand, you were expecting a bucktoothed scrawny cowboy from buttfuck nowhere. this woman was gorgeous.

dark brunette with highlights. piercing brown eyes that you couldn’t stop looking away from. an open blue flannel tied up where a low cut gray tanktop could be seen. high rise jeans that were just ever so slightly lighter than yours. a beige cowgirl hat sitting perfectly on her head.

“good mornin’ sir, ma’am.” and a fucking southern drawl to die for.

“madison! this is our granddaughter.” your grandfather said from the table. “why don’t you join us for breakfast and get to know each other a little bit better.”

you stood there stunned, you have no idea if you drooled a little bit.

“sure thing, sir. you know i love the food in this household.” she took her hat off, resting it on one of the hooks by the door. “thank you, ma’am.” she said as your grandmother served her a plate. she sat down on the side with two empty chairs, prompting you to sit down next to her.

you slowly lowered yourself into the chair, still looking over at her.

“what? did you expect a man?” madison felt your eyes on her.

“maybe.” you choked out, slowly serving yourself a plate. “not that i’m complaining. i’m actually kind of glad that you aren’t a man.” you shrug.

“oh honey—“ honey?! “i’m so much better.”

•*¨*•.¸¸♪

the next hour was absolutely dreadful. your grandparents tasked madison with showing you around the farm. you thought they’d come along until they were loading up your grandfather’s truck, saying how they had to go to the shops. you also thought you knew the farm well enough in your memories, you were completely wrong.

madison took you around the farm in her truck. from the unfenced area that your grandfather and her had yet to finish from the massive pile of stinking manure where they wanted to start a garden, it was hard to keep your eyes off her. the hat on her head, her hand on the stickshift that should be between—

“my favorite place! the barn.” she stopped the truck, parking it just in front of an incredibly large big red barn. has that always been there? “your grandparents expanded it since you were a kid.”

“you talk like you’re so much older than me. you look my age.”

“well, that’s for me to know and you to find out.” she hopped out of the truck, waiting for you to follow.

the truck being so high up made you need to jump. you heard her chuckle softly witnessing the sight. “shut up. i’ll get the hang of it.”

“i’m sure you will.” she said, pulling open the door. immediately, you heard stomping. horses.

“caring for the animals will be the most tasking thing here. i know it sounds more appealing than shovelling dirt but dirt doesn’t have hooves!” she said, walking towards a beautiful brown stallion. “i’ve made it my personal goal to make sure that you and this fella get at least past acquaintances.” she put her boot on one of the hinges on the low door keeping his stable closed, swinging herself over and sitting down on the door. “this is stanley.”

“stanley? i was expecting a different name.” you snickered.

“hey, your grandpa named him. you’ll have to ask him about the name.” she pet stanley’s head gently, he let out noises that you weren’t sure were affectionate or grumpy.

you took a step forward, reaching your hand out to the stallion. he immediately snorted and took several steps back, shaking his head while madison pulled on his reigns to calm him.

“woaaah, buddy.” she said, patting his head. “he doesn’t warm up to people very often.” she said with a laugh before turning to face you. your face was dropped like you’d just been kicked in the gut. in your head, you were asking yourself if your energy was so bad that not a single animal would like you.

“they have so many animals.” you whispered, breaking your gaze away from stanley & madison, trying to fill the silence. you were slightly intimidated by the noises in the barn. oinks, bleeting, more that you couldn’t identify. you were sure they had even more animals than that too. you wrapped your arms around yourself, trying to calm the anxiety.

madison looked over at you, dismounting the door she was sitting on. she came closer to you.

“it’ll be okay. you’ll get the hang of it.” she reassured you with a smile. “when your grandparents told me about you and yours, i thought you’d be more… snappy— angry about this. coming from the city, i mean.”

“i’m not. i’m not angry. i’m just gonna let my grandparents down—“ you scoffed suddenly. “i don’t know why i’m telling you this anyway.” you walked off, shutting yourself off and looking around at all the other stables.

“there’s the snappy!” madison called after you, following shortly after.

you kept walking as the sound of her boots followed.

“hey, you’ll be alright. it took me a while to get on stanley’s good side too.” she said, trying to reassure you again.

“uh huh.” you said, “but you aren’t me.”

•*¨*•.¸¸♪

when your grandparents returned home, you and madison were just getting back from your trip. madison immediately hopped out of the truck before it even stopped to help your grandparents. you stayed back until she signalled for you to help too— were you really that out of touch?

you walked towards your grandfather, taking the bags from him. “here, let me.” you said and he shot you a surprised smile, watching you walk into the house.

when all the bags were moved in, the sun was just about to set.

“would you like dinner, madison?” your grandmother asked. you eyed the brunette as you helped put away the groceries, your grandfather showing you where everything went.

“no, thank you, ma’am. i better be getting back home. my family will be waiting for me.” she said, walking towards the front door.

“well, thanks for all your hard work today. we appreciate you being part of the welcome party.” your grandma joked. “we’ll see you again tomorrow.” she said, handing madison a handful of cash. she nodded and tipped her hat at you.

“was nice to meet you, snappy.” she said, smirking at you. you felt your breath hitch in your throat from the newly acquired nickname. you only waved in response.

maybe the farm wouldn’t be so bad after all.

#madison beer x reader #madison beer

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jeysbvck · 1 year ago

Text

you made a mark on me (a golden tattoo)

welp, here it is! cody has been my favourite wrestler since 2007/2008, and i NEVER thought i'd write a fic about him, but here we are! after mondays segment, i couldn't get this out of my mind and i hope you all enjoy reading it as much as i enjoyed writing it!! please reblog & comment, they are really helpful & motivating to fic writers!

taglist; @nightmare-viper @harmshake @wrestlezaynia @alyyaanna @xtripleiiix @afterdarkprincess @courtninacole @crxssjae @wrestlingprincess80 🫶🏻 (if u wanna be taken off the list or added, lemme know!!)

warnings; teasing in public, f receiving, m receiving, slight praise kink, p in v penetration, slight exhibitionism, jealous!cody (if i've missed anything please let me know!)

word count; 2.7k

summary; once again, teasing Cody works wonders.

Even from the other side of the room, you could feel those blue eyes on you, staring so hard you were sure you'd find a burn mark on your cheek when you looked in a mirror. You leaned your elbow on the bar, twirling a piece of hair around your finger as you half listened to Damian; giggling and playfully slapping his arm or chest at the right times. You could barely pay attention to Damian. All you could think about was Cody and how he was reacting to the very obvious flirting happening. You could picture his face clearly in your mind; the way his usually soft gaze would be hardened watching the scene play out, the way he'd be clenching his jaw or biting the inside of his cheek; waiting for the moment he could drag you away without causing suspicion.

The moment came sooner than anticipated when Dom dragged Damian away to rejoin the rest of The Judgement Day in the booth they'd occupied all night. You looked around the room, searching for Cody, but when you couldn't find him, you opted to join Sami and Jey, who were waving at you wildly. Before you could, someone came up behind you, and their hand gripped your bicep tightly.

"I know what you're doing," Cody said, his voice low in your ear.

You craned your neck so you could smile up at Cody. "What? I was just having a very lovely conversation with Damian." You said innocently.

Cody spun you around and glared down at you, his eyes looking brighter under the dim lights. "It won't work." He told you, and you tilted your head, pouting slightly.

"I don't know what you're talking about." You replied, batting your eyelashes, making Cody roll his neck. "You wanna dance?" You quickly asked before he could say anything else.

He glanced at the mass of people dancing and pulled a face. "We really shouldn't..."

"Come on, I was dancing with Jey earlier. It doesn't -"

"You were dancing with Jey?" He asked, his nostrils flaring as he narrowed his eyes. "Fine, let's dance." He conceded, unable to hide his jealousy as he pulled you to the dancefloor as you giggled.

You took advantage of the number of people on the dancefloor and pressed your body up against Cody while snaking your arms around his neck. His hands rested on your waist, and he raised his eyebrow, to which you shrugged, a smile dancing on your lips. "Sorry." You mouthed, and he shook his head, unable to hide the smile. "You're terrible." He replied, making you grin.

"Oh, you know you love it." You said, massaging the back of his neck with your fingertips, just like you did when you were curled up in bed together. Being this close to him was driving you wild, and if you couldn't touch him the way you truly wanted to, you'd revel in driving him just as wild.

You pushed your pussy into Cody's bulge as you danced, and his grip on your hips tightened. "Don't tease me," He warned, his voice almost a growl. "I'm not sure I'll be able to control myself."

You lifted yourself onto your toes and whispered in Codys' ear, your breasts pushing against his chest. "Who's asking you to control yourself? You could just let go."

Your breath on his neck and your scent in his nostrils was intoxicating. It sent a shiver down his spine, and he closed his eyes as he inhaled through his nose; a futile attempt to control the effect you were having on him. His hands made the journey from your hips to your ass and you glanced around the room, thankful that nobody was paying any attention to the two of you. Considering neither of you was ready for people to know about the two of you, you were playing a very dangerous game. Teasing each other and flirting around other people, stealing kisses and secret moments in crowded rooms, sneaking into each other's hotel rooms or onto Cody's bus; it was all so thrilling, and it was a miracle nobody had caught onto the two of you.

"Baby, you gotta stop." He groaned, squeezing your ass. "You're killing me."

Your eyebrow arched upwards, followed by a smirk. "You want me to stop?" You questioned, slipping your hand in between your bodies, sliding your hand down his shirt until you stopped at his belt buckle. "Just say the word, and I'll do whatever you want."

Cody dropped his head onto your shoulder, a low, almost animalistic sound emitting from his throat. He rutted against you, nipping at your neck as he did, the action making your pussy throb as you caught a moan in your throat. Before you could move your hand lower, Cody promptly grabbed your wrist.

"How about we continue this somewhere more private?" Cody said into your ear. He'd posed it as a question, but it wasn't intended as one— which was apparent when he didn't wait for your answer and practically dragged you out of the main party room and through the hotel lobby.

With his hand on the small of your back, he pushed you through the doors, the cold night air pinching your naked arms. Cody guided you around the corner, and before you knew it, you were up against the wall, his lips attaching to yours, forcing his tongue into your mouth. You reciprocated the kiss, tongues wrapping around each other; both moaning in harmony as he fondled your breasts over your dress. You unbuckled the belt and popped the button open, and when he bit down on your lip, you grinned. You tried to slip your hand into his boxers, ready to feel his cock in your hand, but Cody pulled away, breathless.

"Not here." He said, lacing his fingers around yours. You walked hand in hand across the parking lot, towards where trees lined the edge of the lot. The closer you got, the more you noticed the large outline of Codys' bus, hidden in the shadows of the trees, tucked away from the moonlight.

"You brought your bus here?" You laughed. "You couldn't use the car?"

Cody unlocked the door and ushered you up the steps. "It's a good thing I didn't, isn't it? I knew you'd try something." He teased, slapping your ass lightly. You turned to face him.

"I knew it'd work." You said, reciprocating the soft smile he sent your way as the lock clicked. He took a few steps towards you, his eyes boring into your soul. They were mesmerising, like two oceans you were certain to drown in, and you wouldn't mind a single bit if you did.

"Of course, it worked," Cody said softly. "It'll always work."

You couldn't wait any longer. You pulled Cody towards you by his tie, your lips smashing together forcefully, his fingers tangled in your hair as he tugged slightly, deepening the kiss. He was like a drug you were addicted to, one that you'd never want to give up.

Cody spun you around and slowly unzipped your dress, peppering your naked back with kisses. The black, velvet number fell to the floor, and you turned to face him, standing in just your heels and black panties. He took a step back and carefully studied you like he was looking at his favourite work of art. He grinned and licked his lips as he arched his eyebrow.

"Get on the bed." He ordered. You stepped backwards until your legs hit the edge of the small bed, and you lowered yourself down, the mattress dipping under your weight. Cody pulled at his tie until it loosened and unbuttoned his shirt, smirking at you as he did.

He stood in front of you, his trousers still open from the make-out session outside, and you maintained eye contact as you pushed them and his boxers down his thighs, freeing his cock from its restraints. Cody's tongue poked out of between his teeth as he smirked, his eyes dark as he flicked his thumb across your bottom lip before he lined his cock up against your mouth.

You stuck your tongue out just enough for it to brush the tip, the simple action making Cody buck his hips. You opened your mouth wider, taking as much of Cody's cock as you could. His hand bundled your hair into a ponytail and as you closed your mouth around him, a groan left his lips as he pulled on your hair, throwing his head back. You dragged your tongue up the underside of his cock, the sensation making it twitch in your mouth. You flicked the tip before curling your tongue around it,and you grasped the base of him, taking a moment to look up at him while you pleasured him.

Cody's eyes were glazed over, profanities spilling from him while he guided your head and fucked your mouth. You loved the noises he made, loved the look on his face whenever you were together. He was usually so calm and collected, so to be the one who made him lose control, to fall apart because of you, it made you feel incredibly powerful and confident; something you didn't have much experience with until you met Cody.

He found himself in a rhythm— one that you wanted to disrupt and so you rolled his balls in your hands, massaging them gently as you took the rest of his cock, choking slightly as the tip hit the back of your throat. The noise Cody made was sinful, and you weren't sure you could be any more turned on until you looked up at him through teary eyes. The sweat was beading around his hairline, his teeth almost biting through his lip as he grunted and thrust into your face.

You wrapped your tongue around his cock and he forcefully pushed your head into him before he couldn't take anymore. He tugged you off by your hair, a Pop! echoing out around the bus. You watched him lean towards you and you crawled up the bed slightly, until Cody was leering over you, his eyes full of lust. He wiped your wet cheeks with his thumbs and kissed you; so much passion in the soft and tender embrace. The longer the kiss went on, the more fierce it became, and your back hit the soft sheets, bringing Cody down with you. His mouth followed a path, planting little butterfly kisses down your jawline, your neck, down to your cleavage — where he latched onto your breast, sucking and biting as your hands ran down his shoulders, fingertips scratching his back. His mouth then continued its journey down your sternum to your stomach while his hand caressed your breast and rolled your nipple with his fingers.

Cody hooked his thumbs under your underwear line and ripped them clean from your body. He threw them over his shoulder and held your hips down with one arm, his other hand snaking back up to your throat. He flattened his tongue against your slit and slowly dragged it up your cunt, beginning his feast.

Your hands grabbed the back of his head, and you attempted to buck your hips, but his arm wouldn't let you. "Ohhhh, Cody," you whimpered through little gasps, "feels so fucking good!"

You felt him smile against your thigh as he kissed along the insides before burying his face back into you. "You're such a good girl." He said. "You're my good girl." He said, before flicking your clit with the tip of his tongue. Your hips bucked again, and his grip on your throat tightened as did the grip on your hips. Cody was great at everything he did, he had that Midas touch, but he was incredible at making you feel amazing.

You squeaked as he pushed his tongue into your entrance, releasing your throat so he could caress your clit with his thumb as he fucked you with his tongue. You writhed underneath him as much as he'd allow, pushing his head deeper into your cunt, gripping your thighs against his head, unintelligible sounds leaving your throat as your toes curled.

"Co-Cody, please! I'm gonna cum!" You gasped. He chuckled, picking up the pace and your moans got louder. You were certain that everyone in the hotel would be able to hear you, and that the bus would no longer be hidden from everyone— but you didn't care one bit.

You came undone in seconds, and Cody released your hips from his grasp so you could ride his face, his name spilling out of your mouth. His kept working as you rode the wave of your orgasm and when he came up for air, you giggled breathlessly.

Cody climbed up your body like a lion hunting its prey. He needed to be inside you, to feel your walls clench tight around him as he fucked you hard. He rubbed his cock against your slit, sliding it between your lips, without penetrating. You wrapped your legs around him, attempting to pull him closer to you, trying to force him to give you what you craved. He laughed, his tongue poking out the corner of his mouth and rubbed your entrance with the tip of his cock.

"Cody, please -" You whined, your heels digging into his ass cheeks.

"Use your words, baby."

"Cody- I want your-" His tip teased your cunt again and you groaned, your eyes rolling to the back of your head. "Cody, please fu-fuck m- ohhh ffuck!"

He slammed into you, guttural groans passing through his lips at the euphoric sensation. He would never tire of any of this— of being inside you, making you scream his name and lose control at the slightest touch. He loved feeling your body underneath him or on top of him. Even the smallest of gestures; the slightest touch of your pinky fingers secretly interlocking around people and his favourite— when you placed your palm on his cheek before a match, a little good luck ritual you'd implemented long ago. He would never get enough of the sparks that coursed through his veins when you touched.

His pace quickened when your walls clenched around him. Your moans echoed around the room, in harmony once again, and as another orgasm reached its peak, your arms reached around Cody's neck and pulled toward you, pressing your lips together. The kiss was messy and toothy, and he interlaced your fingers together, sending his free hand between your bodies, his finger circling your clit. You quickly became unglued and your head thrashed against the bed, screaming Cody's name, just the way he liked; as Cody reached his own orgasm, his mouth found your neck, biting down hard before he lapped at the skin with his tongue.

He dropped his body onto you, and you wrapped your arms around his back, enjoying the weight of him on top of you. He nuzzled his head into your neck, pulling the sheets over the both of you, and you closed your eyes, feeling content. With his chest on yours, your heartbeats combined, like your two hearts were one. There were so many reasons for you to go public with your relationship, to let people in on your secret. You wanted to scream from the rooftops about how lucky you were to be the one Cody Rhodes wanted to be with. But you also wanted to stay in your bubble, in your own world where it was just the two of you, nobody else mattered, or even existed.

Cody lifted his head off your chest and leaned onto his elbow, tilting his head as he grinned at you. "You okay?" He asked and you turned to face him, reaching your hand up and placing your palm on his cheek, smiling at the beautiful man with the hearts in his eyes that were for you, and only you.

"I'm starving." You whispered, grinning at him. He rolled onto his back, reaching for a phone that was on the bedside cabinet. He settled back onto the bed, and you found your usual space on his chest. "What do you fancy?"

"Apart from you?" You asked, tracing circles around his chest. Cody laughed loudly, and you grinned wider. "Chinese."

"Whatever you want, you shall receive." Cody replied, making you blush. "Yeah?" You asked, and he nodded, planting his lips on your forehead softly.

"Of course. Always."

#cody rhodes #cody rhodes fic #cody rhodes fanfiction #wwe fanfiction #wwe #wwe fanfic #cody rhodes x reader #cody rhodes x you #cody rhodes smut #my writing*

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buggyboba · 9 months ago

Text

✦ October 15th | Face Sitting

AN 𓏧

↳ ○ | Welp, here I am again, offering you filth. It's day fifteen, and we have 7 more to go, as well as some requests, which are still open, I take nsfw/sfw requests. I hope everyone is enjoying our romp into writing loads of smut, as well as new characters, I have a few new ones I enjoy so I'll certainly be doing more with them, outside of Kinktober. Anyway here is some 10 x reader, being naughty in the Tardis.

SUMMARY𓏧

↳ ○ A lazy day in the Tardis leads to The Doctor taking care of his companion.

PAIRING𓏧

↳ ○ Tenth Doctor x Reader

TW𓏧

↳ ○ Jerking off, face sitting, eating out (Female receiving,), blow job (male receiving), swallowing cum.

WORD COUNT𓏧

↳ ○ 1600

A03 lINK𓏧

↳ ○ x

MASTERLIST LINK𓏧

↳ ○ x

★𓏧 𓏧 𓏧★ 𓏧 𓏧 𓏧★

You had woken up late, but that was okay. You and The Doctor had agreed that today would be a ‘lazy’ day. You didn’t get many lazy days; it was always running and adventures, but he did say that he needed to do some maintenance and that a ‘Lazy’ day was fine. You got up from the bed and moved to pull on today’s clothing. You stretched, feeling your muscles stretch out. It would be a good day to rest. You considered sleeping in more, maybe taking a full-day nap, but you dragged yourself out to the dining area, got some tea, and moved to find him. The Doctor was buzzing around the console like a busy bee, and you yawned exhausted by just watching him. “Lazy means relaxing, you know,” you said lightly, taking a sip of your tea. He looked at you and grinned, moving over towards you.

“Because I’m the only one that took the lazy day seriously, come on now. I know you don’t know what the word means, but relax.” You urged, “You got up early and have been working on the tardis since; I can see the oil smugs and the fact you are only in your shirt and vest, and it’s covered in oil. Take a break, enjoy our lazy day; we don’t get them often.” You watched as he shifted, rubbing the back of his neck before sighing.

“Morning, you are awake late.” He said, looking you over, and you shook your head.

“Yeah, okay… But there is still so much to do, so much we could go see; there are the hanging gardens; there is a rather ethical free-range safari planet.” He said, wiggling his eyebrows at you. You shook your head, you understood he had to keep moving, he didn’t like focusing on the past too much, and it had been getting a little harder lately, so you understood his need for distractions, you really did. However relaxing was also essential, and you were not a Time Lord; you couldn’t just keep going and going; you loved the adventure, the thrill, and getting to be with him; he was great, fun, funny, and he cared about you in a way that you needed. You were his companion, his friend, and you wanted to be there for him in any capacity. Of course, you thought he was handsome, and you liked his stupid face, and you liked when he held you; you liked when he got needy and had to touch you. You shook your head free of the thoughts that were growing more and more impure.

“Starman,” you started, your affectionate nickname for him, “It is a lazy day. We can do all that tomorrow, today we are going to relax, I’m going to bathe.” You held your hand up when he went to talk. “We can go get some breakfast, and we can do something domestic; do you remember domestic, like not running away from Daleks or Cybermen? No dangerous adventures today.” You said looking at him pouting a bit, he studied you for a moment and then relented, nodding.

“Okay, okay.” He raised his hands in defeat. “You are going to go bathe? You take forever...” He clicked his tongue against his teeth before he leaned back against the console. You moved to the bathroom; he was right; you did enjoy taking long showers; you liked the warm water and the moment of relaxation. But you knew you couldn’t stay there forever, so you turned the water off and did a cursory dry of your body before wrapping the towel around you. Heading out, you went to his bedroom, where you had moved in; he didn’t object, so you happily shared his room with him.

You paused when you saw him lying on the bed with nothing on, his arm under his head, and his other hand slowly stroking himself. At least he was relaxing; you cleared your throat and smirked, leaning against the door frame as you watched him. He got his own cheeky smirk and tilted his head to look at you. “You take forever,” he muttered out. “Right, well, come here.” He shifted and got comfortable. You moved to walk over to the bed, moving to sit on the edge. “No, come here.” He smirked more. His hand moved from himself and from behind his head to pull you closer, to straddle his head. You blinked, keeping yourself from sitting down like you assumed he wanted you to do.

“Whatcha doing?” You breathed as he pulled your towel down, his eyes glancing over you, his fingers dragging down your stomach to your thighs, holding them suddenly. “S-Starman,” you breathed out.

“Turn around,” he muttered, urging you to do as he asked. You nodded and quickly moved to turn your knees flush with the crook of his neck on either side of his head, but now you came face to face with his cock. You were about to say something when he wrapped his arms around your thighs, holding them down, while he pushed his face forward, his tongue taking a long lap, as he forced you down more to sit against his face as his tongue explored. You gasped out, and your attempt to buck up and off was thwarted as he held you tightly; you were exactly where he wanted you to be. You let your hands rest on his rapidly rising and falling chest; his tongue moved, exploring and writhing, aiming to bring you the most pleasure. Lapping at you, taking your taste in, how delicious he found you, how sweet you were, like honey. His hands gripped your thighs tighter, keeping you pressed down against him. You were worried about suffocating him, but then you remembered the time he mentioned he had a respiratory bypass, and you were sure if you were suffocating him, he could push you off. Your hips rocked weakly; you could see his cock twitching from need and moved one hand, leaning forward a bit.

You grabbed his length and stroked him; the angle was a bit odd, but you felt him exhale and groan against your core, his tongue teased at your dripping entrance. You let out a puff of air and made a soft sound in the back of your throat. “Feels good,” you murmured out, which elicited a nod and growled sound from him. The way his tongue moved and his mouth pressed against you, god, it was all so delightful. You leaned forward more to let your mouth get closer. You collected a fair amount of saliva and spit it against his tip, using your hand to spread it down his shaft. His hips arched and bucked against your hand; you felt him sucking against you before he moved one of his hands from your thigh down to your mound, moving his middle finger to rub circles against your clit. This new action had you writhing, and a louder groan escaped your parted lips as he pulled you back closer. You could feel the pleasure pooling in your stomach, how your muscles were tighter, and how your thighs shook a bit around his head. You felt your breaths become shorter as they were in between lower groans; you spilled the nickname from your lips like a prayer. His hand tightened on your thigh, and his finger moved in tighter, quicker circles around your clit, until you arched and all but screamed as you felt yourself push over the edge and cum against his mouth. Your body jolted, and you couldn’t help slumping forward your head on his stomach as he slowly let you go. You panted against his skin, and you felt his hands rub up the back of your thighs and against your ass, groping and massaging as you came down. You felt his cock twitch by your head, and you knew he would wait for you to come down more, but you pushed yourself up, one of your hands steadying you beside his hip. You leaned forward and took him into your mouth; this pulled a low growl from his throat.

“You..you don’t have to." He breathed out, but you were already sucking, and letting your tongue circle the tip before you took him farther into your mouth, bobbing and stroking what wasn’t in your mouth, you felt his hips lift again, his fingers tightened against your skin as if holding on for dear life. You closed your eyes and continued; he wrapped his arms around your hips, forcing them down against his chest as he groaned out. “Mm, right, Nova, just like that.” He breathed out using the affectionate pet name he used for you, His Nova; that was the only nickname that mattered; it fit you perfectly, His Nova.

You groaned against him, and he tried not to buck more, but your mouth just felt too good. “I’m close,” he breathed out, a warning so you could choose what to do. You didn’t take your mouth away, but let your tongue flatten against him, feeling his needy twitch. How he tensed up, he muttered something in Gallafreyan and bucked his hips when he couldn’t stop himself, seeking deeper into your warm, wet mouth. After a moment, you felt the hot seed splatter against the back of your throat and against your tongue. You waited a moment before you sat up, swallowing what was in your mouth and wiping your mouth with the back of your hand. He lay boneless against the bed, coming down. You moved to lay next to him, wrapping your arm around him as you cuddled into his side; his hand lazily rubbed your back as he breathed. At least the lazy day would be a really lazy day now. Laying in bed, taking pleasure in each other, you knew you would order in some carb-heavy food, it was going to be a great lazy day.

★𓏧 𓏧 𓏧★ 𓏧 𓏧 𓏧★

Taglist𓏧 ↳ ○ @bees-fart-too , @bakusquadobsessed , @anastasa-mslfedit , @cabinedepapel , @asteria237 , @suckerforcate , @bingewatchingmylifegoby , @toastvogel , @starbucks-06 If you want to be added to the rest here is the l x

#doctor who #doctor who x reader #doctor x reader #tenth doctor x reader #tenth doctor x female reader #tenth doctor x f!reader #x reader #kinktober '24 #kinktober 2024 #kinktober #tw: smut

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letmedixonyou · 6 months ago

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i'm not yours

Daryl Dixon x fem reader

summary: Daryl is in a relationship with Leah (they live in Alexandria together, so completely different plot to what TWD sold us), and you have been friends forever now. He doesn't know but you love him and you finally decide to tell him.

warnings: some swearing, but nothing too crazy

A/N: this one broke my heart, I was listening to Conan Gray "Yours" and I thought it would be a great idea. Don't ask why Leah, it just fits the story the most and it's easier to write about someone who you actually dislike a little than someone like my sweet precious Connie. I know Daryl wouldn't be like that in any way, shape or form, but I wanted to write something that has a bit of a sad ending. Welp, here we are.

Knock knock knock.

The sound of it echoed through your house, and it made you jump in your place at the desk, where you were writing in your journal. You knew exactly who it was. You promised Daryl you will go with him for a scavenging trip, as you were his best friend, but also a real good scavenger. You knew you couldn't deny him when he asked you two days ago, and even if it means enduring your stupid heart beating fast every time you were around him.

Truth was, you were in love with Daryl for quite some time now. You couldn't remember when exactly it happened. It felt like day by day you heart was aching to be more to him. More than just a friend. To be able to touch him, kiss him, feel him against you, not only as a friend... but as something deeper.

You were going to tell him a few months back, but then he met Leah and everything changed. You could see how he looked at her. Even though his face did not let it show, his eyes told you that he was attracted to her. Hell, you knew way before he admitted to it. And then, stupidly, you pushed him to ask her out but he only gave you a look of "do not even go there" and waved his hand at you. It wasn't long after that, Leah decided to make a move herself. She asked him out and he said yes. Of course, he said yes. He was silently yearning for her since she showed up in Alexandria. It almost made you sick how much he was into her.

You tried to be happy for him, you really have. And a part of you is happy for him. He finally seems a bit more relaxed, smiles a little more, talks a little more. Leah had a good influence on him through the months - you couldn't deny that. But deep down, you wished you were the one who was making him that happy, that much more open.

With a sigh, you closed your journal and got up, making your way to the doors. You opened them, only to be greeted with a slight smile from Daryl and a nod. "Hey," he said. "You ready to go?"

"Yeah," you say and you looked him up and down. He was wearing a weird, cape like thing. "The hell are you wearing?" you ask him, putting on your own jacket.

"A poncho," he says without missing a beat. He looked down at it and brushed an invisible fluff off it. "Why?"

"A poncho?" you raised you eyebrow, your lips curl into a smirk.

"Yes, a poncho," he says, rolling his eyes. "What's wrong with a poncho?"

"Nothing," you shake your head. "I just didn't take you as a poncho guy."

"Leah made it for me and it's quite warm," he shrugs his shoulders and looks at you with a slight smile. Of course, you thought to yourself, physically wanting to roll your eyes at it, but your smirk never falters. "I'll ask her to make you one. We'll both look like Robin Hood in the woods." You snort with laughter, stepping out of the house and following him to the gates.

Your heart was already thumping in your chest and it's only been mere minutes since you've been close to him. Your palms were sweaty. All you could think about was wrapping your arms around him and never letting him go. You knew you couldn't, but it was getting increasingly harder to be around him, knowing that him and Leah are playing house and being happy together.

If it isn't clear yet, you hate Leah. Pretty much everyone disliked her in Alexandria, but you were hundred percent sure you hated her most. Not because she was with Daryl, but she was just... so... bland. So boring. She had nothing going on for herself, she cries more than anyone you know, but yet somehow Daryl likes her? You found it strange. You found her strange. But you guessed that maybe she is only ever so bland in front of people, and she might be a bit more fun behind closed doors.

"Where are we going today?" you ask Daryl once you were out the gates, sounding casual and normal as always.

"I found some places, a couple miles out west and I wanted to check them out and see what we could find," he says, looking forwards. "We're running low on some medical supplies."

"Righto," you nod, focusing on the surroundings.

You walked and Daryl talked about Leah, non stop, like he didn't have any other topics to talk about with you. It was all 'Leah this... Leah that' and it really pissed you off, even though you didn't show it. You missed your usual banter and teasing. You missed the connection you formed over the years of friendship. Daryl quietens for a second before he speaks again.

"You should give Leah a chance, you know?"

"Kinda hard to give a chance to someone who has everything you want," you murmur.

"What's that supposed to mean?"

You stop in your tracks and your eyed widen realising that you said it out loud, instead of in your head. You turn to Daryl, who also stopped walking, and were looking at you with a raised eyebrow. You felt like your heart surely will jump out of your chest, in panic, under his questioning gaze.

"Nothing," you say, shaking your head.

"No, it's clearly something," Daryl presses and steps closer to you. "Why do you hate Leah so much? She's a really good person. If only..."

"Dear God, do you have anything else to talk about anymore?!" you roar, slinging your hands up in frustration. "I am so fucking sick of hearing you talk about her!"

"She's my..."

"Yeah, she's your girlfriend, got it!" you scoffed, the irritation building up inside of you. "You won't let me forget for even a minute!"

"What's gotten into you? Why are you acting like this?" he asks, looking you up and down, so clueless that it makes you blood boil and your face turns red. You clench your fists until your knuckles turn white.

The next words come out of your mouth with anger, frustration, so much fucking annoyance that you weren't able to stop them.

"Because I fucking love you! Because Leah gets to have you every single day of the week, while I have to watch you two from the side lines, kissing and holding each other and it makes me fucking jealous. Because I was supposed to be that person to you! Me!"

Daryl's eyes widen at your confession, and you keep looking at him. You swallowed hard, the realisation of what you just said finally hitting you and you close your eyes for a minute, trying to steady your breath. Everything seems to slow down around you, like someone switched the world to slow motion setting. Your body freezes up in place and when you open your eyes again, you see Daryl standing there, frowning.

"What the fuck, Y/N?" he asks, crossing his arms on his chest, his muscles stretch and roll under his checkered shirt. "Why would you ever tell me that?"

"I didn't mean to," you say but then you shake your head catching yourself on a lie. "That is a lie. I meant to... way before the Leah bullshit. But I've always chickened out."

"Before Leah? Y/N... How long has this been going on? And why the hell you thought that now is the best time to tell me?" his voice is cold and unforgiving. "I thought we were friends."

"We are!" you say quickly. "Of course we are friends."

"But you love me," he says slowly. "And now I know. How am I supposed to treat you now?"

"Just like you did before all of this," you say and you take a step closer to him. "Nothing needs to change. We can just forget about it."

He instinctively takes a step back.

OUCH.

You look into his eyes, your eyes pleading and questioning, like you were trying to search for answers in his. You wanted him to say that it is fine and that he will just forget about it, but he doesn't. Instead, he's standing there, his hands squeezing on the crossbow, looking at you like you've just stabbed him or something. Confusion on his face tells you he doesn't know how to deal with this information, knowing his best friend loves him in a romantic type of way, not the friendly way.

"Please, Daryl," you say, your head swing down, between your shoulders. "I'm still your best friend..."

"Best friend?" he scoffs.

OUCH AGAIN.

"Yes... Am I not?" you ask quietly, feeling the sting of the tears at the back of your eyes as you pray to God not to break down in front of him.

"You were, until you fell in love with me," he says without skipping a beat and you feel like your heart is being ripped out your chest. "Do you really expect me to just forget about all of this, and continue to be friends with you?"

"What do you mean?" you ask, your voice really weak.

"How would I know you won't try and destroy my relationship? Try to put a wedge between me and Leah, so you can have me all to yourself?" he starts to pace around, his eyes still scanning you, nothing but coldness in them.

"I wouldn't," you whisper. "You happiness is important to me."

"I cannot be sure about that now, can I?" he huffs. "So what, you're okay with just being friends with me?" he look you dead in the eyes and you could've sworn your heart stopped beating for a few seconds.

No. I want more. You wanted to say, to scream, but you knew that it wasn't the answer he was looking for.

"I'm okay with being just friends with you," you say, looking down at the ground, your words lack conviction.

"You're lying," he calls you out.

"I am," you admit pretty quickly, knowing he could read you like a book.

He looks at you for awhile, before rubbing his face with his whole hand. You could see he was trying to process the information as best as he could, and you were afraid that you just made the biggest mistake of your life. That you were about to lose a friend, someone who has been there for you forever now, just because your stupid feelings.

You bite your lip, trying hard to keep your emotions in check, your eyes still stinging at the back. Daryl was pacing around again, not looking at you anymore. His face serious, more serious than you ever saw him be. He suddenly stops.

"I would never see you as something more than a friend," you hear him say and your whole body shivers with how cold and mean it sounded.

You look up to him. He's now standing in front of you, with his crossbow swung across his body, his hands crossed on his chest. His blue eyes - oh, those perfect blue eyes - are looking at you but there is nothing behind them. His jaw seems to be clenching hard, like he's trying not to yell and scream. You wouldn't blame him if he did, but you were glad that he wasn't. Because it would, for sure, make you curl into a ball and cry.

You swallow hard and nod to him, acknowledging the words he just said.

I would never see you as something more than a friend.

You knew it. You knew you'd never be his. Deep down you were aware of it, but your stupid aching heart thought that maybe, just maybe, he'd change his mind one day and he'd see you as more than a friend... It was a delusion, promptly followed by empty hope.

"I know," you manage to whisper to him, your eyes digging a hole in the ground before you. You were too embarrassed to look at him, now that he knows and he will always know. He will always have your words at the back of his head and, most likely, he'll never treat you the same way.

Your whole scavenging trip goes in an excruciating silence. You go through the buildings and you scavenge the most of it, before going back to Alexandria. There is no goodbye from Daryl when you step inside the gates. There is no "see ya later" or anything else that would indicate that your friendship is okay. Of course, your friendship wasn't okay. You just told him you loved him, and he said he'd never see you as more than a friend...

You watched him head to his house, greet Leah and pull her inside the house, closing the doors behind him. You think about what they were doing, but you quickly shake your head to get rid of these thoughts. Your eyes finally fill with tears as you head down the street, your head down, your hands in your pockets. You let it all out, stepping inside your house, sliding down the doors onto the floor and curling into a ball. It felt like you just lost a piece of yourself. Piece that was important, maybe too important.

Days go by, and Daryl stays away from you, you both slowly drift away from each other. It was clear he wasn't comfortable with being friends with someone who loved them more than that. It was clear that your friendship was ruined, and that it was your fault. When you passed by each other, there was no words exchanged. It was like two complete strangers, just living in the same community.

You remember how he made you smile, and laugh. You you'd always tease each other and banter. How you always find ways to annoy people around you. You remember how everything that you liked about your life, it was somehow connected to him. How hearing his name made you smile every single time because you knew that day spent with Daryl was going to be full of adventure and mischief which you loved.

But one day, hearing his name didn't make you smile anymore...

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